THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


MRS.    DELANY 


MRS.    DELANY 

(MARY     GRANVILLE) 
A     MEMOIR 

1700-1788 

COMPILED   BY 

GEORGE    PASTON 


With  Seven  Portraits  in  Photogravure 


LONDON 

GRANT    RICHARDS 
1900 


First  printed  March  1900 
Reprinted  May  1900 


Edinburgh  :  T.  and  A.  CONSTABLE,  Printers  to  Her  Majesty 


CoUefe 
Library 


PREFACE 

IN  1861-62  Mrs.  Delano/1  s  Autobiography  and  Correspond- 
ence, edited  by  the  late  Lady  Llanover,  was  published  by 
Mr.  Bentley  in  six  volumes,  the  price  being  five  pounds 
the  set.  This  edition,  the  size  and  cost  of  which  placed 
it  beyond  the  reach  of  the  general  public,  has  long  been 
out  of  print.  In  1898  I  received  permission  from  the 
representatives  of  Mrs.  Delany^s  family  to  prepare  an 
abridged  or  popular  version  of  the  book.  In  this  work 
I  have  had  the  kind  help  and  encouragement  of  the 
late  editor's  daughter,  the  Honourable  Mrs.  Herbert  of 
Llanover,  who  was  so  good  as  to  give  me  the  opportunity 
of  examining  the  manuscripts,  pictures,  embroideries,  and 
other  relics  of  Mrs.  Delany  which  are  now  preserved  at 
Llanover.  Among  the  papers  I  found  several  interesting 
unpublished  letters  as  well  as  some  curious  records  of 
the  social  life  of  the  period.  Those  that  are  in  Mrs. 
Delany's  own  hand  are  inserted,  in  their  proper  order,  in 
the  body  of  the  work,  while  the  remainder  will  be  found 
in  a  supplemental  chapter.  Mr.  Ram,  Q.C.,  another 

v 


1221707 


PREFACE 

descendant  of  the  Granville  family,  was  kind  enough  to 
lend  me  a  packet  of  Mrs.  Delan/s  unpublished  letters, 
from  which  some  characteristic  passages  are  quoted. 

I  have  to  thank  Messrs.  Macmillan  &  Co.,  to  whom 
Mr.  Bentley's  publishing  rights  have  passed,  for  per- 
mission to  print  extracts  from  the  Autobiography  and 
Correspondence. 


VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 
I. 

1700-1717, 

PAGE 

1 

II. 

1717-1724, 

18 

III. 

1724-1729, 

36 

IV. 

1729-1732, 

50 

V. 

1732-1734, 

71 

VI. 

1734-1736, 

87 

VII. 

1736-174°, 

101 

VIII. 

1741-1744, 

.   116 

IX. 

1744-1748, 

134 

X. 

1749-1752, 

160 

XI. 

1752-1756, 

164 

XII. 

1756-1766, 

179 

XIII. 

1767-1772, 

191 

XIV. 

1772-1776, 

.   207 

Vll 


MRS.  DELANY 

PAGE 

xv.  1776-1779,         .                          ....  220 

xvi.  1779-1783,         •                                       ...  232 

xvii.  1783-1785,         .                                       ...  245 

XVHI.  1786-1788,         ......  259 

xix.  1788,    .......  272 

XX."] 

j-SUPPIjEMENTAL,  ....  277-293 

XXI.  J 


Vlll 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

MRS.  DELANY,        .  .  .-  .  .          Frontispiece 

PAGE 

CATHERINE  HYDE,  DUCHESS  OF  QUEENSBERRY,      .             .  46 

MRS.  DELANY,         ......  78 

ANNE  GRANVII.LE,  ......  108 

MRS.  GRANVILLE,  MOTHER  OP  MRS.  DELANY,       .             .  148 

MARGARET  CAVENDISH  HAHLEY,  AFTERWARDS  DUCHESS  OF 

PORTLAND,        .  .  .  .  .  .192 

GEORGINA  MARY  ANN  PORT,  MRS.  DELANY'S  GREAT-NIECE,          2£4 


IX 


MRS.    DELANY 

(MARY  GRANVILLE) 

CHAPTER    I 

(1700-1717) 

MRS.  DELANY,  born  Mary  Granville,  was  a  daughter  of  the 
famous  house  which  claims  descent  through  the  Earls  of 
Corbeil  from  Hollo,  first  Duke  of  Normandy,  and  whose 
ancient  lineage  and  territorial  influence,  together  with  the 
brilliant  achievements  of  several  of  its  members,  placed  it 
at  one  time  in  the  foremost  ranks  of  the  celebrated  historical 
families  of  this  nation.  From  their  kinsman  William 
Rufus  the  Granvilles  (or  Grenvilles,  as  they  were  also 
spelt)  receired  broad  lands  in  the  west  country,  and 
kept  up  such  princely  state  at  their  seat  at  Stowe,  near 
Bideford,  that  one  Sir  Roger,  who  flourished  about  the 
end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  earned  the  name  of  the 
'  Great  Housekeeper.1  The  most  distinguished  of  Mary 
Granville's  more  immediate  ancestors  were  Sir  Richard 
Granville,  the  Elizabethan  admiral,  who,  as  the  com- 
mander of  the  gallant  Revenge,  and  the  hero  of  'England's 
naval  Thermopylae,'  has  been  celebrated  in  song  and 
story ;  and  his  grandsons,  Sir  Bevil,  the  Royalist  general, 
who  fell  at  the  battle  of  Lansdown  in  1643,  and  Sir 
Richard,  who  was  known  as  '  the  King's  General  in  the 

A  a 


MRS.  DELANY 

West.'  Clarendon  gives  enthusiastic  testimony  to  the 
character  of  Sir  Bevil  in  the  following  passage  : 

'That  which  would  have  clouded  any  victory,  and 
made  the  loss  of  others  less  spoken  of,  was  the  death  of 
Sir  Bevil  Granville.  He  was  indeed  an  excellent  person, 
whose  activity,  interest,  and  reputation  were  the  foundation 
of  what  had  been  done  in  Cornwall ;  and  his  temper  and 
affection  so  public  that  no  accident  which  happened  could 
make  any  impression  on  him,  and  his  example  kept  others 
from  taking  anything  ill,  or  at  least  seeming  to  do  so. 
In  a  word,  a  brighter  courage  and  a  gentler  disposition 
were  never  married  together  to  make  the  most  cheerful 
and  innocent  conversation.1 

At  the  time  of  his  death  Sir  Bevil  had  in  his  pocket  a 
letter  from  Charles  i.  acknowledging  his  services,  and  a 
patent  for  the  earldom  of  Bath,  a  title  that  was  taken  up 
by  his  eldest  son,  John,  after  the  Restoration.  His 
youngest  son,  Bernard,  who  was  the  messenger  chosen  to 
convey  to  Charles  n.  the  news  that  he  was  invited  to 
return  to  his  kingdom,  left  three  sons  and  two  daughters : 
Sir  Bevil,  Governor  of  Barbadoes ;  George,  Secretary 
of  State  for  War  under  Queen  Anne,  created  Baron 
Lansdowne  in  1711 ;  Bernard,  the  father  of  Mrs.  Delany ; 
Anne,  Maid  of  Honour  to  Queen  Mary,  and  afterwards 
married  to  Sir  John  Stanley ;  and  Elizabeth,  who  died 
unmarried. 

Colonel  Bernard  Granville,  who,  as  the  younger  son  of 
a  younger  son,  occupied  the  position  of  a  poor  gentleman 
with  a  famous  name,  does  not  appear  to  have  mended  his 
fortune  by  his  marriage  with  the  beautiful  daughter  of 
Sir  Martin  Westcombe,  Consul  at  Cadiz.  Mary,  the 
eldest  daughter,  afterwards  Mrs.  Delany,  was  born  at 
Coulston,  in  Wiltshire,  on  May  14,  1700.  It  was  in 


MRS.  DELANY 

consequence  probably  of  her  parents'  narrow  means  that 
the  little  girl,  at  the  age  of  eight,  was  adopted  by  her 
childless  aunt,  Lady  Stanley,  who  was  then  living  in 
apartments  at  Whitehall,  Sir  John  being  secretary 
to  the  Lord  Chamberlain.  At  first  Mary,  who  had 
already  spent  two  years  at  a  school  kept  by  a  French 
refugee,  found  the  lonely  grandeur  of  Whitehall  but  a 
poor  exchange  for  the  fun  and  frolic  of  her  school  life. 
'  My  uncle  and  aunt,'  she  observes  in  a  fragment  of  auto- 
biography written  late  in  life,  '  though  very  kind  to  me, 
were  too  grave  and  serious  to  supply  the  place  of  the 
companions  I  had  left.  But  I  soon  found  new  com- 
panions to  cheer  me  for  those  I  had  lost.  The  fine 
Gothic  gate  which  divided  Whitehall,  commonly  called 
the  cock-pit,  from  King  Street  was  inhabited  by  Hyde, 
Earl  of  Rochester.  Lord  Hyde,  the  Earl  of  Rochester's 
eldest  son,  married  Miss  Lewson,  daughter  of  Lord 
Gower,  and  grand -daughter  of  Sir  Bevil  Granville,  and 
they  and  their  large  family  at  this  time  all  lived  with 
Lord  Rochester,  and  I  soon  grew  into  great  intimacy 
with  my  young  cousins.  But  chiefly  my  acquaintance 
was  with  Miss  Catherine,  afterwards  the  celebrated 
Duchess  of  Queensberry,  who  was  exactly  my  own  age, 
and  whose  wit,  beauty,  and  oddities  made  her  from  her 
early  years,  when  she  was  "  Kitty,  beautiful  and  young," 
to  the  end  of  a  long  life  a  general  object  of  animad- 
version, censure,  and  admiration.  .  .  . 

'In  the  year  1710  I  first  saw  Mr.  Handel,  who  was 
introduced  to  my  uncle  by  Mr.  Heidegger,  the  famous 
manager  of  the  opera,  and  the  most  ugly  man  that  ever 
was  formed.  We  had  no  better  instrument  in  the  house 
than  a  little  spinet  of  mine,  on  which  that  great  professor 
performed  wonders.  I  was  much  struck  by  his  playing, 

3 


MRS.  DELANY 

but  struck  as  a  child  not  as  a  judge,  for  the  moment  he 
was  gone  I  seated  myself  to  my  instrument  and  played 
the  best  lesson  I  had  then  learnt.  My  uncle  archly 
asked  me  whether  I  thought  I  should  ever  play  as  well 
as  Mr.  Handel.  "  If  I  did  not  think  I  should,11  cried  I, 
"  I  would  burn  my  instrument.1'  Such  was  the  innocent 
presumption  of  childish  ignorance.1 

The  autobiographical  fragment  ends  with  this  anecdote, 
but  in  a  series  of  letters,  written  at  the  request  of  her 
friend  the  Duchess  of  Portland,  in  1740,  Mrs.  Delany 
gives  many  interesting  reminiscences  of  her  eventful  youth. 
The  persons  mentioned  are  designated  by  fictitious  names, 
the  key  to  which  was  given  by  Mrs.  Delany  on  a  separate 
sheet  of  paper,  each  name  having  a  letter  of  the  alphabet 
which  corresponded  with  those  on  the  key.  These  recol- 
lections begin  with  the  year  1714,  when  the  death  of 
Queen  Anne  made  a  great  difference  to  the  fortunes  of 
the  Granville  family. 

'The  task  you  have  set  me,  my  dearest  Maria,1  writes  Mrs. 
Delany,  '  is  a  very  hard  one,  and  nothing  but  the  comply- 
ing with  the  earnest  request  from  so  tender  a  friend  could 
persuade  me  to  undertake  it.  You  are  so  well  acquainted 
with  my  family  that  it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  inform  you  of 
the  ebbs  and  flows  that  have  attended  it  for  many  years :  in 
the  most  prosperous  time  of  our  fortune  you  were  not  born. 
The  death  of  Queen  Anne  made  a  considerable  alteration  in 
our  affairs :  we  were  of  the  discontented  party,  and  not 
without  reason ;  not  only  my  father,  but  all  my  relations 
that  were  in  public  employments,  suffered  greatly  by  this 
change.  My  father  being  a  younger  brother,  his  chief 
dependence  was  on  the  favour  of  the  Court  and  his 
brothers  friendship ;  the  first  being  withdrawn,  he  had 
recourse  to  the  latter ;  he  was  offered  by  him  a  retreat 
4 


MRS.  DELANY 

in  the  country  and  an  addition  to  the  small  remains  of 
his  fortune ;  he  retired  with  my  mother,  my  sister,  and 
myself.  Anna  (my  sister's  name),  who  was  then  a  little 
girl,  too  young  to  consider  how  such  a  retirement  might 
prove  to  her  disadvantage,  was  delighted  with  a  new 
scene. 

'  I  was  then  fifteen  years  of  age,  had  been  brought  up 
under  the  care  of  my  aunt  Valeria  [Lady  Stanley],  a 
woman  of  extraordinary  sense,  remarkably  well-bred  and 
agreeable,  who  had  been  Maid  of  Honour  to  Queen  Mary, 
was  particularly  favoured  and  distinguished  by  her,  and 
early  attained  all  the  advantages  of  such  an  education 
under  so  great  and  excellent  a  princess,  without  the  least 
taint  or  blemish  incident  to  that  state  of  life  so  dangerous 
to  young  minds.  Her  penetration  made  her  betimes 
observe  an  impetuosity  in  my  temper,  which  made  her 
judge  it  necessary  to  mortify  it  by  mortifying  my  spirit, 
lest  it  should  grow  too  lively  and  unruly  for  my  reason. 
I  own  I  often  found  it  rebellious,  and  could  ill  bear  the 
frequent  checks  I  met  with,  which  I  too  easily  inter- 
preted into  indignities,  and  have  not  been  able  wholly  to 
reconcile  to  any  other  character  from  that  day  to  this. 
Nevertheless,  the  train  of  mortifications  that  I  have  met 
with  since  convince  me  that  it  was  happy  for  me  to  be 
early  inured  to  disappointments  and  vexations.  Valeria 
was  very  fond  of  me,  but  too  generous  to  deprive  my 
father  and  mother  of  what  they  might  think  a  comfort  in 
their  retirement,  so  upon  their  going  into  the  country  I 
quitted  her  and  went  with  them.' 

In  an  explanation  appended  to  the  above  letter  by 
Mrs.  Delany,  she  relates  that  'Alcander  [Lord  Lans- 
downe],  the  year  after  the  accession  of  George  i.,  was 
sent  to  the  Tower  at  the  same  time  with  Lord  Oxford. 

6 


MRS.  DELANY 

My  father,  who  then  resided  in  Poland  Street,  upon  this 
change  in  the  affairs  of  his  family,  determined  upon 
retiring  into  the  country.  He  ordered  two  carriages  to 
be  at  his  door  at  six  o'clock,  and  gave  a  charge  to  all  his 
people  not  to  mention  his  design,  as  he  did  not  wish  to 
take  a  solemn  leave  of  his  friends  upon  an  absence  of 
such  uncertain  duration.  The  man  from  whom  the  horses 
were  hired,  and  who  proved  to  be  a  spy,  immediately,  in 
hopes  of  a  reward,  gave  information  at  the  Secretary  of 
State's  office  of  these  private  orders,  affirming  that  it  was 
his  belief  the  colonel  and  his  family  were  going  secretly 
out  of  the  kingdom.  I  was  sleeping  in  the  same  bed  with 
my  sister,  when  I  was  suddenly  awakened  by  a  disturb- 
ance in  my  room.  My  first  idea  was  of  being  called  to 
rise  early  in  order  to  sit  for  my  picture,  which  was  then 
painting  for  my  father,  but  the  moment  I  looked  round 
I  saw  two  soldiers  standing  by  the  bedside  with  guns  in 
their  hands.  I  shrieked  with  terror,  and  started  up  in 
my  bed.  "  Come,  misses,"  cried  one  of  the  men,  "  make 
haste  and  get  up,  for  you  are  going  to  Lord  Townshend's  " 
(then  Secretary  of  State).  I  cried  violently,  and  they 
desired  me  not  to  be  frightened.  My  mother's  maid  was 
with  difficulty  admitted  into  the  room  to  dress  us.  My 
little  sister,  then  but  nine  years  old,  had  conceived  no 
terror  from  this  intrusion,  but  when  the  maid  was  going 
to  put  on  her  frock,  called  out,  "  No,  no,  I  won't  wear 
that  frock.  I  must  wear  my  bib  and  apron ;  I  am  going 
to  Lord  Townshend's." 

'When  we  were  dressed  we  were  carried  to  my  father 
and  mother,  whom  we  found  surrounded  by  officers  and 
messengers,  two  of  each  and  sixteen  soldiers  being  em- 
ployed about  the  house.  My  father  was  extremely 
shocked  by  this  scene,  but  supported  himself  with  the 
G 


MRS.  DELANY 

utmost  composure  and  magnanimity,  his  chief  care  being 
to  calm  and  comfort  my  mother,  who  was  greatly  terrified, 
and  fell  into  hysteric  fits,  one  after  the  other.  Here,  before 
any  removal  could  take  place,  whilst  we  were  in  the  midst 
of  our  distress  and  alarm,  my  aunt  Valeria  forced  her  way 
into  the  room.  Intelligence  having  reached  her  of  the 
situation  we  were  in,  she  instantly  came,  but  was  refused 
admittance.  She  was  not,  however,  to  be  denied ;  she 
told  the  officers  that  she  would  be  answerable  for  every- 
thing to  Lord  Townshend,  and  insisted  on  passing  with 
a  courage  and  firmness  that  conquered  their  opposition. 
I  can  never  forget  her  meeting  with  my  father ;  she  loved 
him  with  the  extremest  affection,  and  could  never  part 
from  him,  even  for  a  short  absence,  without  tears.  They 
embraced  each  other  with  the  most  tender  sadness,  and 
she  was  extremely  good  in  consoling  my  poor  mother. 
She  entreated  that  the  messengers  would  at  least  suffer 
her  to  convey  them  to  their  confinement  herself  in  her 
own  coach,  but  this  they  peremptorily  refused.  She  then 
protested  she  would  be  responsible  for  carrying  her  two 
young  nieces  to  her  own  house,  instead  of  seeing  them 
conveyed  to  the  messenger's,  and  in  this  point  she  con- 
quered, and  being  forced  to  separate  from  my  father,  she 
had  us  both  put  into  her  coach  and  carried  to  White- 
hall .  .  .' 

How  Colonel  Granville  and  his  wife  obtained  their 
liberty  we  are  not  told,  but  it  appears  that  in  November 
of  the  same  year  they  were  allowed  to  leave  town  with 
their  two  daughters,  and  travelled  for  five  days  through 
miserable  weather  to  their  new  home  at  Buckland,  near 
Campden,  in  Gloucestershire.  'At  the  age  that  I  left 
the  fine  world,'  continues  the  narrator,  '  I  may  own,  with- 
out fear  of  much  reproach,  that  I  left  it  with  regret.  I 

7 


MRS.  DELANY 

had  been  brought  up  with  the  expectation  of  being  Maid 
of  Honour,  Queen  Anne  having  put  down  my  name  for 
the  office  with  her  own  hand.  I  had  been  at  one  play 
and  one  opera,  and  thought  the  poets1  description  of  the 
Elysian  fields  nothing  to  the  delights  of  these  entertain- 
ments ;  I  lamented  the  loss  of  my  young  companions,  and 
the  universal  gaiety  I  parted  with  when  I  left  London. 
I  often  repeated  Mr.  Pope's  verses  to  a  young  lady  on 
her  leaving  the  town  after  the  coronation.  And  to  make 
the  change  appear  still  more  gloomy,  all  this  I  quitted 
in  November,  travelled  through  miserable  roads,  and  in  a 
few  days  after  our  arrival  at  the  farm,  was  blocked  up 
from  all  intercourse  with  our  neighbours  by  as  severe  a 
frost  as  was  ever  known  in  England,  which  prevented 
company  coming  to  us,  or  our  going  abroad.  At  that 
time  I  thought  it  a  loss,  though  my  father's  excellent 
temper,  great  cheerfulness,  and  uncommon  good-humour 
made  him  exert  himself  for  our  entertainment  at  home ; 
and  as  I  loved  him  excessively,  and  admired  everything 
he  said  and  did,  I  should  soon  have  found  consolation 
from  his  engaging  manners,  but  the  dejectedness  of  my 
mother's  spirits,  occasioned  by  the  disappointments  my 
father  had  met  with  in  his  fortune,  and  the  not  being 
able  to  give  her  children  all  the  advantages  in  their 
situation  she  wished  to  do,  made  her  unable  to  support 
herself,  and  often  affected  her  to  so  great  a  degree  as  to 
prejudice  her  health.  This  hurt  my  father,  and  I  felt  it 
on  a  double  account. 

*  Three  months  passed  in  this  place  without  any  variety. 
I  was  kept  to  my  stated  hours  for  practising,  reading, 
writing,  music,  and  French,  and  after  that  I  was  expected 
to  sit  down  to  work.  My  father  generally  read  to  us. 
In  the  evening  I  was  called  upon  to  make  up  a  party  at 
8 


MRS.  DELANY 

whist  with  my  father  and  mother  and  the  minister  of 
the  parish  .  .  .  This  was  our  chief  entertainment  till 
Roberto  [Mr.  Twyford]  came  into  the  neighbourhood, 
a  young  gentleman  who  was  driven  to  shelter  there  by 
some  hot-headed,  misguided  zealots  [Sir  William  Wynd- 
ham  and  others].  Their  chief  betrayed  them,  and  Roberto 
was  obliged  to  seek  for  refuge  at  Tranio's  [Mr.  Tooker] 
who  had  been  a  great  friend  of  his  father's.  He  was 
twenty-two,  tall,  handsome,  lively,  and  good-humoured. 
The  first  Sunday  after  he  came  he  met  us  all  at  church, 
and  my  father  asked  him  to  eat  beef  and  pudding  with 
his  landlord.  He  came,  and  the  next  day  he  came  again. 
He  pleased  my  father  extremely :  they  grew  so  fond  of 
each  other  that  by  degrees  the  farm  was  his  home,  and 
my  mother  was  glad  to  encourage  his  visits. 

'The  spring  passed  on  tolerably  well,  the  days 
brightened  and  lengthened,  and  we  had  compliments  and 
visits  from  all  our  neighbours.  In  March  Roberto  left  us 
to  return  home,  all  things  being  quiet  in  the  country  at 
that  time;  but  he  promised  my  father  he  would  come 
and  make  him  a  visit  the  latter  end  of  the  year.  About 
this  time  I  contracted  a  friendship  for  Sappho  [Sarah 
Kirkham,  afterwards  Mrs.  Chapone],  a  clergyman's 
daughter  in  the  neighbourhood.  She  had  an  uncommon 
genius  and  intrepid  spirit,  which,  though  really  innocent, 
alarmed  my  father.  He  loved  gentleness  and  reserve  in 
the  behaviour  of  women,  and  could  not  bear  anything 
that  seemed  free  or  masculine.  I  was  convinced  of  her 
innocence,  and  saw  no  fault  in  her.  She  entertained  and 
flattered  me,  but  by  the  improvement  she  has  since  made, 
I  see  she  was  not  then  the  perfect  creature  I  thought  her. 
We  wrote  to  each  other  every  day,  and  met  in  the  fields 
between  our  fathers'  houses  as  often  as  we  had  an  oppor- 

9 


MRS.  DELANY 

tunity.  Her  extraordinary  understanding,  lively  imagina- 
tion, and  humane  disposition,  which  soon  became  con- 
spicuous, at  last  reconciled  my  father  to  her,  and  he  never 
after  debarred  me  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  .  .  . 

'  At  the  end  of  the  year  Roberto  returned  according  to 
his  promise.  I  found  his  behaviour  not  at  all  what  it 
used  to  be ;  he  was  often  silent  and  thoughtful.  When  I 
came  down  in  a  morning  to  practise  my  harpsichord,  he 
was  always  in  the  room,  and  he  would  place  himself  beside 
me  while  I  played.  Whenever  I  went  to  my  favourite 
bench  he  followed  me  immediately.  One  day  he  took 
me  by  the  hand  as  I  was  coming  downstairs,  and  said, 
"  He  almost  wished  he  had  never  known  the  family.""  After 
he  had  been  a  month  with  us  my  mother  took  notice  of 
his  being  more  particular  in  his  behaviour  towards  me ; 
even  my  little  sister  Anna  made  several  observations  that 
made  Roberto  blush,  and  me  angry  at  her  pertness.  My 
mother  cautioned  me  not  to  leave  my  room  in  a  morning 
till  she  sent  for  me,  and  never  permitted  me  to  walk 
without  a  servant  when  she  or  my  father  could  not  go 
with  me.  Roberto,  I  believe,  designed  speaking  to  me 
first,  in  which  being  disappointed  he  applied  to  my  father, 
and  made  proposals  of  marriage.  He  told  him  I  had  no 
fortune,  and  it  was  very  probable,  for  this  reason,  his 
friends  would  not  approve  of  his  desire ;  if  they  did,  he 
had  so  high  an  opinion  of  him  that  he  should  be  well 
pleased  with  his  alliance.  Upon  which  Roberto  returned 
home  to  try  what  he  could  do  with  his  friends,  but  after 
some  months1  trial  to  get  his  parents  to  consent  he  wrote 
my  father  that  they  were  inexorable.  This  he  appre- 
hended before  he  went,  and  pressed  me  very  much  to 
marry  him  privately,  but  I  was  offended  at  the  proposal, 
and  desired  him,  if  he  could  not  gain  the  consent  he 
10 


MRS.  DELANY 

wished  to  have,  to  think  no  more  of  me.  I  little  thought 
then  how  fatal  this  disappointment  would  prove  to  him. 
I  was  very  easy  when  the  affair  was  over,  and  rather  glad 
of  it.' 

The  following  autumn  Mary  received  an  invitation  to 
stay  with  her  uncle  Lord  Lansdowne  (called  Alcander  in 
the  Autobiography)  at  Longleat.  Lord  Lansdowne  had 
been  confined  in  the  Tower,  on  account  of  .his  Jacobite 
sympathies,  during  the  past  two  years,  and  had  only 
recently  been  set  at  liberty.  The  intimate  friend  of  Pope 
and  Swift,  he  was  himself  a  poet  as  well  as  a  politician, 
and  a  man  of  singular  charm  of  manner.  'The  invitation,1 
writes  Mary,  '  was  very  agreeable  to  me,  and  thought  too 
advantageous  by  my  father  and  mother  to  be  refused. 
My  father  accompanied  me  himself,  and  delivered  me 
into  Lord  Lansdowne's  hand,  who  received  me  with  that 
grace  and  fondness  so  peculiar  to  his  politeness  and  good- 
nature. Laura  [Lady  Lansdowne]1  was  at  that  time 
about  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  very  handsome,  and 
had  behaved  herself  very  well.  I  soon  grew  fond  of  her, 
and  was  delighted  with  every  mark  of  her  favour,  tho"1 
the  pleasure  I  received  from  my  uncle's  distinction  of  me 
far  exceeded  it.  There  was  at  that  time  a  great  deal  of 
company  in  the  house,  and  the  design  of  going  to  Bath 
was  put  off  till  the  spring.  We  danced  every  night,  and 
had  a  good  band  of  music  in  the  house.  Lord  Lans- 
downe was  magnificent  in  his  nature,  and  valued  no 
expense  that  would  gratify  it,  which  in  the  end  hurt  him 
and  his  family  extremely. 

*  I  now  thought  my  present  state  and  future  prospects 
as  happy  as  this  world  could  make  them.  My  father 

1  Widow  of  Thomas  Thynne,  and  daughter  of  the  first  Earl  Jersey. 
Her  son,  Lord  Weymouth,  inherited  Longleat. 

11 


MRS.  DELANY 

had  thoughts  of  returning  home,  well  pleased  at  my 
being  in  such  favour,  but  discontented  with  my  uncle's 
treatment  of  himself,  which  was  not  what  he  expected. 
He  told  him  that  now  he  should  lessen  his  income, 
supposing  that  by  this  time  he  had  fallen  into  a  method 
of  living  in  the  country,  and  did  not  want  so  large 
an  income  as  at  first  setting  out.  Alcander  reminded 
him  at  the  same  time  how  kind  he  was  to  his  children. 
These  were  truths,  but  harsh  to  a  generous  and  grateful 
mind,  such  as  my  father's  was.  The  day  before  he  left 
Lord  Lansdowne's  house  my  father  opened  his  mind  to 
me,  and  I  afterwards  wished  I  had  returned  with  him 
that  I  might,  by  tender  duty  and  affection,  show  him 
that  I  preferred  his  house  and  company  to  all  flattering 
views  that  were  laid  before  me — but  it  was  his  pleasure 
that  I  should  stay.  My  two  aunts  soon  grew  jealous  of 
the  great  favour  shown  to  me  by  my  uncle,  and  would 
never  suffer  me  to  spend  an  hour  with  him  alone,  which 
mortified  me  extremely ;  for  tho'  I  did  not  pretend  to 
much  penetration  or  judgment,  I  soon  found  their 
conversation  much  less  instructive,  as  well  as  much  less 
entertaining,  than  his.  I  had  been  brought  up  to  love 
reading,  they  never  read  at  all.  Alcander  delighted  in 
making  me  read  to  him,  which  I  did  every  day,  till 
the  ladies  grew  angry  at  my  being  so  much  with  my 
uncle. 

'About  this  time  there  came  on  a  visit  to  Alcander 
an  old  friend  and  countryman  of  his,  Gromio  [Mr. 
Pendarves  of  Roscrow,  Cornwall].  When  he  arrived  we 
were  at  dinner;  he  sent  in  his  name,  upon  which 
Alcander  rose  from  table  overjoyed,  and  insisted  on 
his  coming  in  to  dinner.  I  expected  to  have  seen  some- 
body with  the  appearance  of  a  gentleman,  when  the 
12 


MRS.  DELANY 

poor  old  dripping,  almost  drowned  Gromio  was  brought 
into  the  room,  like  Hob  out  of  the  well.  His  wig,  his 
coat,  his  dirty  boots,  his  large  unwieldy  person,  and  his 
crimson  countenance  were  all  subjects  of  great  mirth 
and  observation  to  me.  I  diverted  myself  at  his  ex- 
pense for  several  days,  and  was  well  assisted  by  a  young 
gentleman,  brother  to  Laura,  who  had  wit  and  malice. 
Gromio  soon  changed  his  first  design  of  going  away 
next  day.  The  occasion  of  his  coming  was,  it  was  stated, 
a  quarrel  he  had  had  with  a  gentleman  who  had  married 
his  niece.  Gromio  offered  to  settle  upon  him  his  whole 
estate,  provided  he  would,  after  his  (Gromio's)  death, 
take  his  name.  Bassanio  [Francis  Bassett],  proud  of 
his  family,  refused  to  comply,  upon  which  Gromio  deter- 
mined to  dispose  of  his  estate,  and  settle  quietly  for  the 
rest  of  his  life  in  the  country.  In  order  to  execute  this 
design  he  was  going  to  London,  and  passing  near 
Alcander's  house,  heard  that  the  family  were  in  the 
country,  which  determined  him  to  make  his  journey 
one  day  longer  by  calling  there. 

'  He  talked  of  going  every  day,  but  still  stayed  on, 
and  I,  to  my  great  sorrow,  was  after  some  time  convinced 
that  I  was  the  cause  of  this  delay;  his  behaviour  was 
too  remarkable  for  me  not  to  observe  it,  and  I  could 
easily  perceive  that  I  was  the  only  person  in  the  family 
that  did  not  approve  of  it.  Gromio  was  then  nearly 
sixty,  and  I  seventeen  years  of  age.  You  may  readily 
believe  I  was  not  pleased  with  what  I  suspected.  I 
formed  an  invincible  aversion  to  him,  and  everything  he 
said  or  did  by  way  of  obliging  me  increased  that  aversion. 
I  thought  him  ugly  and  disagreeable.  He  was  fat,  much 
afflicted  with  gout,  and  often  sat  in  a  sullen  mood,  which 
I  conclude  was  from  the  gloominess  of  his  temper.  I 

13 


MRS.  DELANY 

knew  that  of  all  men  living  my  uncle  had  the  greatest 
opinion  of  and  esteem  for  him,  and  I  dreaded  his  making 
a  proposal  of  marriage,  as  I  knew  it  would  be  accepted. 
In  order  to  prevent  it  I  did  not  in  the  least  disguise  my 
great  dislike  to  him.  I  behaved  myself  not  only  with 
indifference,  but  with  rudeness;  when  I  dressed  I  con- 
sidered what  would  become  me  least ;  if  he  came  into  the 
room  when  I  was  alone  I  instantly  left  it,  and  took  care 
to  let  him  see  I  quitted  it  because  he  came  there.  I  was 
often  chid  by  my  aunts  for  this  behaviour.  I  told  them 
plainly  he  was  odious  to  me,  in  hopes  they  would  have 
had  good  nature  enough  to  have  prevented  what  I  saw ; 
but  Laura  called  me  childish,  ignorant,  and  silly,  and 
said  that  if  I  did  not  know  what  was  for  my  own  interest 
my  friends  must  judge  for  me. 

'Gromio  was  some  time  debating  with  himself  whether  he 
should  declare  his  sentiments  for  me  or  not,  conscious  of 
the  great  disparity  of  years,  and  often  staggered,  as  he 
told  me  afterwards,  by  my  behaviour,  but  at  last  a  violent 
fit  of  jealousy,  raised  by  Vilarios'  [Mr.  Villiers]  gallantry 
towards  me,  which  I  only  took  for  very  undesigning 
merriment,  made  him  resolve  to  address  himself  to 
Alcander,  and  make  such  proposals  as  he  thought 
might  gain  his  consent.  Lord  Lansdowne,  rejoiced  at  the 
opportunity  of  securing  to  his  interest  by  such  an  alliance 
one  of  some  consequence  in  his  country,  whose  services 
he  at  that  time  wanted,  readily  embraced  the  offer,  and 
engaged  for  my  compliance ;  he  might  have  said  obedience, 
for  I  was  not  entreated  but  commanded.  One  night,  at 
one  of  our  concerts,  all  the  company  (I  suppose  by  agree- 
ment) went  into  the  room  where  the  music  was  performed. 
I  got  up  to  follow  them,  but  my  uncle  called  me  back, 
and  desired  I  would  bear  him  company,  for  he  was  lame, 
14 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  could  not  walk  into  the  next  room.  My  spirits  fore- 
bode what  he  was  about  to  say,  and  when  he  bade  me 
shut  the  door,  I  turned  as  pale  as  death.  He  took  me 
by  the  hand,  and  after  a  very  pathetic  speech  of  his  love 
and  care  of  me,  of  my  father's  unhappy  circumstances,  my 
own  want  of  fortune,  and  the  little  prospect  I  had  of 
being  happy  if  I  disobliged  those  friends  who  were 
desirous  of  serving  me,  he  told  me  of  Gromio's  passion 
for  me,  and  his  offer  of  settling  his  whole  estate  upon  me. 
He  then,  with  great  art  and  eloquence,  told  me  all  his 
good  qualities  and  vast  merit,  and  how  despicable  I  should 
be  if  I  could  refuse  him  because  he  was  not  young  and 
handsome ;  and  that  if  I  did  refuse  him,  he  should  con- 
clude that  my  inclinations  were  engaged  to  Roberto,  a 
name  that  I  had  not  heard  nor  thought  of  for  above  half 
a  year — a  name  that  had  never  before  given  me  much 
disturbance,  though  now  it  added  to  my  distress. 

'  How  can  I  describe  to  you,  dear  friend,  the  cruel  agita- 
tion of  my  mind !  Whilst  my  uncle  talked  to  me,  I  did 
not  once  interrupt  him :  surprise,  tender  concern  for  my 
father,  a  consciousness  of  my  own  little  merit,  and  the 
great  abhorrence  I  had  to  Gromio,  raised  such  a  confu- 
sion of  thoughts  in  my  mind  that  it  deprived  me  of 
the  power  of  utterance,  and  after  some  moments1  silence  I 
burst  into  tears.  Alcander  grew  warm  upon  this  mark 
of  my  distress,  and  said,  "  I  see,  madam,  you  are  not  to 
be  gained  by  merit ;  and  if  Roberto  is  the  obstacle  to  my 
friend's  happiness,  and  he  ever  dares  to  come  to  this 
house,  I  will  have  him  dragged  through  the  horse-pon$." 
Such  an  expression  from  a  man  of  my  uncle's  politeness 
made  me  tremble,  for  it  plainly  showed  me  how  resolute 
and  determined  he  was,  and  how  vain  it  would  be  for  me 
to  urge  any  reason  against  his  resolution.  With  great 

15 


MRS.  DELANY 

difficulty  I  said  I  was  so  sensible  of  his  goodness  to  me, 
and  of  the  gratitude  I  owed  him,  that  I  would  submit  to 
his  demands,  but  must  beg  leave  at  that  time  to  retire, 
and  that  he  would  excuse  my  appearing  any  more  that 
evening.  He  gave  me  my  liberty,  and  by  a  back  way  I 
avoided  the  company,  and  went  to  my  own  apartment, 
locked  myself  up  in  my  closet,  where  I  wept  bitterly  for 
two  hours.  Several  messengers  came  to  the  door  to  call 
me,  and  at  last  my  uncle  sent  me  word  he  absolutely 
insisted  on  my  coming  to  supper.  Nothing  could  be  at 
that  time  more  vexatious  to  me,  but  I  proposed  one  con- 
solation, which  was  that  Gromio  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  should  see  how  unacceptable  the  proposal  that  had 
been  made  to  me  that  afternoon  was. 

'  I  shall  not  disguise  my  thoughts,  or  soften  any  part  of 
my  behaviour,  which,  I  fear,  was  not  altogether  justifiable, 
and  which,  though  your  judgment  will  condemn,  your 
indulgence  and  partiality  will  find  some  excuse  for.  I 
thought  that  if  I  could  convince  Gromio  of  the  great 
dislike  I  had  to  him,  that  he  would  not  persist,  but  I  was 
disappointed  in  that  view.  I  had  nobody  to  advise  with ; 
every  one  of  the  family  had  persuaded  themselves  that  this 
would  be  an  advantageous  match  for  me,  no  one  con- 
sidered the  sentiments  of  my  heart.  To  be  settled  in  the 
world,  and  ease  my  friends  of  my  expense  and  care,  they 
urged  that  it  was  my  duty  to  submit,  and  that  I  ought  to 
sacrifice  everything  to  that  one  point.  I  acted  as  they 
wished  me  to  do,  and  for  fear  of  their  reproaches  made 
myself  miserable :  my  chief  motive,  I  may  say,  was  the 
fear  of  my  father  and  mother  suffering  if  I  disobliged 
Alcander.  I  then  recollected  the  conversation  I  had 
with  my  father  the  day  before  he  left  us.  I  considered 
that  my  being  provided  for  would  be  a  great  satisfaction 
16 


MRS.  DELANY 

to  him,  and  might  be  the  means  of  establishing  a  good 
understanding  between  the  brothers ;  that  if  I  showed 
the  least  reluctance  my  father  and  mother  would  never 
consent  to  the  match,  and  that  would  inevitably  expose 
them  as  well  as  myself  to  Alcander's  resentment.  These 
considerations  gave  me  courage,  and  kept  up  my 
resolution.'  , 


17 


CHAPTER   II 

(1717-1724) 

As  soon  as  Mary^s  consent  had  been  wrung  from  her,  her 
uncle  sent  to  invite  her  parents  to  the  wedding,  and 
directly  they  arrived  the  ceremony  took  place.  '  I  was 
married  with  great  pomp?  she  writes.  '  Never  was  one 
dressed  out  in  gayer  colours,  and  when  I  was  led  to 
the  altar,  I  wished  from  my  soul  I  had  been  led,  as 
Iphigenia  was,  to  be  sacrificed.  I  was  sacrificed.  I  lost 
not  life,  indeed,  but  all  that  makes  life  desirable — joy  and 
peace  of  mind ;  but  although  it  was  plain  to  all  the 
witnesses  of  this  sad  scene  how  much  I  suffered  in  it,  no 
one  showed  any  sensibility  of  it,  except  my  father  and 
mother,  the  only  persons  from  whom  I  wished  to  hide  my 
distress.  They  persuaded  themselves,  however,  that  my 
great  trouble  arose  from  the  thought  of  leaving  so  many 
friends,  and  not  from  the  dislike  I  had  to  Gromio,  which 
gave  me  a  happy  opportunity  of  relieving  my  oppressed 
heart.  I  stayed  about  two  months  at  Alcander's  after  I 
was  married,  and  Gromio  showed  me  all  the  respect  and 
tenderness  he  was  capable  of,  and  I  returned  it  with  all 
the  complacency  I  was  mistress  of,  and  had  he  known 
how  much  it  cost  me  he  must  have  thought  himself 
obliged  by  my  behaviour. 

*  An  incident  occurred  one  day  at  dinner  that  discon- 
certed  me  a  good   deal.      A  gentleman   who   came   to 
dinner  said  he  had  heard  a  very  melancholy  story  of  a 
18 


MRS.  DELANY 

neighbour  of  his,  for  whom  he  had  a  great  regard,  and 
after  giving  him  a  very  extraordinary  character,  he  said, 
"Poor  Roberto,  he  is  struck  with  a  dead  palsy."  I 
blushed  excessively,  and  felt  a  grateful  compassion  for  a 
man  who  had  always  expressed  a  very  particular  regard 
for  me.  I  could  not  help  thinking  I  might  perhaps  have 
been  the  unfortunate  cause  of  his  misfortune,  as  in  truth 
I  was,  though  I  did  not  know  that  till  some  years  after 
his  death.  I  was  then  told  by  a  lady,  a  great  friend  of  his, 
to  whom  he  used  to  open  his  mind,  that  his  mother's  cruel 
treatment  of  him,  and  absolute  refusal  of  her  consent  for 
his  marrying  me,  affected  him  so  deeply  as  to  throw  him 
into  the  palsy.  He  lost  the  use  of  his  speech,  though 
not  of  his  senses,  and  when  he  strove  to  speak,  he  could 
not  utter  above  a  word  or  two,  but  he  used  to  write 
perpetually,  and  I  was  the  only  subject  of  his  pen.  He 
lived  in  this  wretched  state  about  a  year  after  I  was 
married.  When  he  was  dead  they  found  under  his 
pillow  a  piece  of  cut  paper  which  he  had  stolen  out  of 
my  closet  at  the  farm.1 

The  day  came  at  last  when  the  young  wife  was  to  leave 
all  that  she  loved  and  valued,  and  go  to  a  remote  part  of 
the  country  with  the  husband  whom  she  could  only  look 
upon  as  her  tyrant  and  her  gaoler.  Her  one  consolation 
was  that  her  eldest  brother,  Bernard,  was  allowed  to 
accompany  her. 

'  We  were  about  a  fortnight  on  the  road,'  she  writes, 
*  for  Gromio  being  desirous  of  introducing  me  to  all  his 
friends,  we  went  to  all  that  were  in  our  way,  instead  of 
going  to  an  inn,  which  was  very  disagreeable  to  me, 
who  would  much  rather  have  hid  myself  in  a  cave  than 
have  been  exposed  to  the  observation  of  anybody.  I 
met  with  great  civility  and  flattery  from  all,  but 

19 


MRS.  DELANY 

received  no  satisfaction  from  anything  but  a  few  stolen 
retired  moments,  to  vent  my  grieved  heart  by  my  tears, 
which  I  took  great  care  should  not  be  seen  by  Gromio, 
for  I  wished  to  deceive  him  in  that  particular,  and  believe 
I  succeeded.  .  .  . 

'  You  say  I  have  omitted  giving  you  his  character ;  'tis 
true  I  have  not  been  very  particular  in  it.  I  fear  I  am 
not  good  at  drawing  characters,  and  that  my  prejudice  is 
too  strong  to  admit  of  my  doing  him  justice.  His  age 
I  have  already  told  you ;  as  to  his  person,  he  was  exces- 
sively fat,  of  a  brown  complexion,  negligent  in  his  dress, 
and  took  a  vast  quantity  of  snuff,  which  gave  him  a  dirty 
look.  His  eyes  were  small,  black,  lively,  and  sensible; 
he  had  an  honest  countenance,  but  altogether  a  person 
rather  disgusting  than  engaging.  He  was  good-natured 
and  friendly,  but  so  strong  a  party  man  [i.e.  a  Jacobite], 
that  he  made  himself  many  enemies,  and  was  at  one  time 
involved  in  such  difficulties  that  it  was  great  good  luck  that 
he  escaped  being  discovered.  He  was  very  sober  for  two 
years  after  we  married,  but  then  he  fell  in  with  a  set  of 
old  acquaintances,  a  society  famed  for  excess  in  wine, 
and  to  his  ruin  and  my  misery  was  hardly  ever  sober. 
This  course  of  life  soured  his  temper,  which  was  naturally 
good,  and  the  days  he  did  not  drink  were  spent  in  a 
gloomy,  sullen  way,  which  was  infinitely  worse  to  me 
than  his  drinking,  for  I  did  not  know  how  to  please  or 
entertain  him,  and  yet  no  one  ever  heard  him  say  a  cross 
or  snappish  thing  to  me.  .  .  . 

*  When  we  arrived  at  Averno  [Roscrow  Castle]  I  was 
indeed  shocked.  The  castle  is  guarded  with  high  walls 
that  entirely  hide  it  from  your  view.  When  the  gate  of 
the  court  was  opened,  and  we  walked  in,  the  front  of  the 
castle  terrified  me.  It  is  built  of  ugly,  coarse  stone,  old 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  mossy,  and  propt  with  two  great  stone  buttresses,  and 
so  it  had  been  for  threescore  years.  I  was  led  into  an  old 
hall  that  had  scarcely  any  light  belonging  to  it ;  on  the 
left  hand  was  a  parlour,  the  floor  of  which  was  rotten  in 
places,  and  part  of  the  ceiling  broken  down,  and  the 
windows  were  placed  so  high  that  my  hand  did  not  come 
near  the  bottom  of  them.  Here  my  courage  forsook  me 
at  once,  and  I  fell  into  a  violent  passion  of  crying,  and 
was  forced  to  sit  down  some  minutes  to  recover  myself. 
My  behaviour,  to  be  sure,  shocked  Gromio,  and  I  was 
sorry  that  I  had  not  a  greater  command  of  myself;  but 
my  prison  appeared  so  dismal  I  could  not  bear  the  surprise, 
not  expecting  to  see  so  ruinous  a  place."1 

It  may  appear  strange  to  modern  eyes  that  the  friends 
and  relations  of  Mary  Granville,  who  really  desired  her 
welfare,  should  have  forced  her  into  this  most  unnatural 
marriage.  But  it  must  be  remembered  that  in  the  early 
part  of  the  eighteenth  century  mariages  de  convenance 
were  as  much  the  rule  in  England  as  they  are  in  France 
at  the  present  day.  Moreover,  the  fate  of  the  poor 
gentlewoman  who  failed  to  secure  a  husband  was  a  melan- 
choly one.  The  only  profession  open  to  her  was  that  of 
teaching,  for  which  the  chances  were  that  her  education 
did  not  qualify  her.  Failing  that,  she  was  doomed  to  act 
as  waiting-woman  to  some  great  lady,  or  else  to  drag  out 
her  days  in  a  state  of  genteel  pauperism,  an  undesired 
burden  upon  her  more  prosperous  relations.  Lord  Lans- 
downe  probably  believed  that  he  was  doing  the  best  thing 
possible  for  his  niece's  future  when  he  obtained  for  her  a 
well-to-do  husband  and  a  comfortable  home.  It  was  any- 
thing but  a  sentimental  age,  and  emotions  were  regarded 
as  luxuries  that  only  the  rich  could  afford  to  cultivate. 
If  Mary  Granville  had  lived  in  the  present  day  she  would 

21 


MRS.  DELANY 

probably  have  aired  her  woes  in  a  problem  novel,  would 
certainly  have  posed  as  a  femme  incomprise,  and  might 
even  have  consoled  herself  with  the  attentions  of  a  younger 
lover.  As  it  was,  the  little  eighteenth-century  heroine, 
realising  that  her  marriage  was  an  accomplished  fact 
which  no  amount  of  repining  could  alter,  determined  to 
make  the  best  of  a  bad  business,  devote  herself  to  the 
comfort  of  her  gouty  old  lord,  and  get  what  little  bright- 
ness and  pleasure  she  could  out  of  her  new  surroundings. 

The  first  few  months  of  Mrs.  Pendarves^s  married  life 
were  spent  in  exploring  the  country  on  horseback  with 
her  brother,  in  fitting  up  the  old  castle  according  to  her 
own  fancy,  and  in  receiving  the  neighbours,  who  flocked 
to  pay  their  compliments  to  the  bride.  Unfortunately, 
any  pleasure  that  Mary  might  have  taken  in  her  new 
acquaintances  was  quickly  checked  by  the  discovery  that 
her  husband  was  of  a  furiously  jealous  temperament.  So 
unreasoning  were  his  suspicions  that  Mary  declared  she 
would  rather  have  seen  a  lion  walk  into  the  house  than 
any  one  whose  person  or  address  could  alarm  her  husband. 

Mr.  Pendarves's  jealousy  was  first  aroused  by  the 
attentions  paid  to  Mary  by  his  nephew,  Mr.  Basset ;  but 
in  spite  of  his  perturbation,  he  freely  acknowledged  that 
he  had  nothing  to  charge  her  with,  her  behaviour  being 
all  that  he  could  desire.  A  more  alarming  incident  was 
a  declaration  of  love  from  a  young  married  man,  who,  in 
consequence  of  having  lost  his  fortune,  was  invited  to 
make  a  long  stay  at  Roscrow.  Mary,  who  could  not 
accuse  herself  of  having  given  the  slightest  encouragement 
to  the  guest,  found  herself  placed  in  a  cruel  dilemma. 
She  dared  not  give  her  husband  a  hint  of  the  young  man's 
conduct,  and  yet  she  knew  that  there  could  be  no  safety 
for  her  as  long  as  he  remained  in  the  house.  The  repulsed 
22 


MRS.  DELANY 

lover  seems  to  have  contemplated  suicide,  for  he  asked 
one  of  the  servants  for  a  pistol,  and  when  told  there  was 
none  in  the  house  looked  very  gloomy  and  discontented. 
The  servant  warned  his  master,  and  Mr.  Pendarves,  who 
fancied  that  the  guest's  despair  was  caused  by  his  money 
troubles,  informed  him  that  they  were  '  obliged  to  leave 
home  for  some  time,1  the  accepted  formula  for  politely 
putting  an  end  to  the  interminable  visits  of  the  period. 

4  Gromio  seemed  very  happy  and  well  satisfied  with  my 
behaviour,"1  continues  Mary,  '  and  if  I  showed  no  delight 
in  being  in  his  company,  I  took  care  he  should  have  no 
reason  to  accuse  me  of  preferring  any  other  to  it.  I  never 
made  any  visits  without  him,  and  as  he  was  often  confined 
with  the  gout,  I  always  worked  and  read  in  his  chamber. 
My  greatest  pleasure  was  riding,  but  I  never  indulged 
myself  in  that  exercise  unless  he  proposed  it,  and  I  must 
do  him  the  justice  to  say  he  was  very  obliging  in  his 
behaviour  to  me.  .  .  . 

'In  this  manner  two  years  passed.  I  was  happier  in 
the  third ;  business  obliged  Gromio  to  go  to  London,  and 
my  father  and  mother  and  sister  came  to  stay  with  me 
in  his  absence.  O  happy  year !  that  made  me  some 
amends  for  all  I  had  suffered.  My  sister,  though  very 
young,  had  now  grown  very  conversable  and  entertaining, 
and  I  took  great  delight  in  her  company.  We  went  to 
every  place  in  the  country  that  was  worth  seeing;  and 
my  father,  whose  family  had  been  so  long  distinguished 
and  respected  in  that  country,  was  much  caressed  by  all 
the  neighbourhood,  and  had  extraordinary  civilities  paid 
him.  .  .  . 

*  Gromio  wrote  to  me  by  every  post,  and  his  affairs 
obliging  him  to  spend  another  year  in  London,  he  desired 
me  to  come  to  him  when  my  friends  returned  home.  I 


MRS.  DELANY 

was  I  own,  very  well  pleased  at  the  thought  of  seeing 
once  more  a  place  where  I  had  been  bred  up,  and  those 
friends  who  had  had  the  care  of  me ;  but  those  joys  were 
damped  to  so  great  a  degree  by  one  thought,  that  I  should 
have  preferred  banishment  from  all  I  loved  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  their  company,  since  by  doing  that  I  could  not 
avoid  the  person  who  made  my  life  miserable.1 

On  arriving  in  town  Mary  found  that  her  husband  had 
taken  a  house  in  what  was  even  then  a  very  unpleasant 
part  of  Soho,  and  that  he  had  invited  his  sister,  an  ill- 
tempered,  meddling  woman,  to  make  his  house  her  home. 
Worst  of  all,  during  his  solitary  life,  Mr.  Pendarves  had 
fallen  into  bad  company,  and  had  taken  to  drowning  his 
business  worries  in  drink.  '  Hitherto,1  writes  his  wife, 
'  I  had  lived  in  affluence,  and  had  never  known  the  want 
of  money.  I  was  as  prudent  in  the  management  of  our 
domestic  affairs  as  I  thought  our  circumstances  required  ; 
in  the  country  I  had  not  the  demands  for  money  that 
attended  the  life  I  was  now  engaged  in,  and  I  was  so 
well  furnished  with  clothes  and  pocket-money  by  Lord 
Lansdowne  on  my  marriage  that  I  had  no  notion  of  ever 
wanting.  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  my  distresses  on 
that  score ;  Gromio^s  excuse  to  me  was,  "  Bad  tenants  and 
a  cheating  steward,11  which  I  truly  believe  was  the  case, 
though  I  had  many  hints  given  me  by  his  old  friends  that 
he  had  some  very  near  relations  to  maintain.  This  was 
the  last  misfortune  I  could  have  expected;  I  thought 
myself  at  least  secure  of  an  easy  fortune.  Gromio,  to 
drown  his  cares,  which  were  then  very  heavy  on  him,  had 
recourse  to  the  society  I  have  already  mentioned ;  he 
never  was  at  home  but  when  the  gout  confined  him,  and 
then  I  never  left  him.  When  he  had  the  gout  he  could 
never  bear  (even  in  the  midst  of  winter)  the  least  fire  in 
24 


MRS.  DELANY 

his  room,  and  I  have  read  three  hours  together  to  him, 
trembling  with  cold  all  the  time.  He  has  often  been 
confined  six  weeks  together;  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to 
go  abroad,  he  returned  to  his  society,  never  came  home 
sober,  and  has  frequently  been  led  by  two  servants  to  bed 
between  six  and  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Unhappy 
cruel  state !  How  many  tears  I  have  shed,  and  what 
sorrow  of  heart  I  have  felt ! ' 

However,  life  in  town  was  not  altogether  without  its 
compensations.  Mary  was  warmly  welcomed  by  her  aunt, 
Lady  Stanley,  and  other  relations,  and  soon  found  that 
the  doors  of  a  very  gay  and  brilliant  society  stood  open 
before  her.  In  her  letters  to  her  sister  she  dwells  only 
on  the  brighter  side  of  life,  and  we  read  of  a  visit  to  the 
opera  to  hear  the  Astarte  of  Buononcini,  upon  whom  the 
young  Duchess  of  Marlborough  had  lately  settled  five 
hundred  a  year  for  life  on  condition  that  he  would 
compose  no  more  for  the  ungrateful  Academy ;  of  a 
water-party  to  Richmond  with  Lady  Harriet  Harley,  at 
which  they  were  entertained  with  excellent  music,  but 
disappointed  of  the  company  of  Mrs.  Anastasia  Robinson, 
the  beautiful  singer,  who  was  secretly  married  to  Lord 
Peterborough ;  and  of  Mary's  first  masquerade,  of  which 
she  writes  :  '  I  was  very  much  pleased,  and  like  it  so  well 
that  I  hope  one  day  to  have  the  pleasure  of  going  with 
you  to  one.  I  met  with  no  smart  people,  and  it  was 
thin  of  company  to  what  they  used  to  be,  but  as  it  was 
the  first  I  was  ever  at  I  did  not  find  any  faults,  but  a  great 
deal  of  diversion.1 

Lord  Lansdowne,  for  political  reasons,  had  gone  with 
his  family  to  France  the  year  before  the  Pendarves  came 
to  town.  'I  was  much  disappointed  at  not  finding 
him,1  writes  Mary,  '  for  I  loved  him  notwithstanding  the 

25 


MRS.  DELANY 

unhappy  settlement  he  had  made  for  me,  and  I  hoped  for 
some  redress  from  him.  I  at  first  lamented  the  absence 
of  Laura,  from  whose  friendship  I  expected  much  consola- 
tion, but  I  found  her  conduct  since  my  leaving  her  had 
been  very  indiscreet.  I  told  you  she  was  very  handsome 
and  gay ;  she  loved  admiration — a  most  dangerous  dis- 
position in  an  agreeable  woman,  and  proved  a  most 
ruinous  one  to  Lady  Lansdowne.  The  libertine  manners 
of  France  accomplished  what  her  own  nature  was  prone 
to.  No  woman  could  less  justify  herself  than  she  could. 
Alcander,  whom  she  married  for  love,  had  every  agreeable 
quality  that  could  make  a  husband  amiable,  and  was 
worthy  of  the  most  constant  affection.  He  was  fond  of 
her  to  excess,  generous  to  extravagance,  allowing  her  the 
command  of  all  his  fortune.  He  had  learning  and  sense 
far  beyond  her  capacity,  with  the  greatest  politeness  and 
good-humour  imaginable ;  in  a  word,  he  was  as  fine  and 
finished  a  gentleman  as  in  his  own,  or  any  other  age, 
ever  adorned  his  country.  Alcander,  had  he  married  a 
woman  of  prudence,  sense,  and  virtue,  might  have  made  a 
shining  figure  in  the  world  ;  and  Laura,  had  she  married 
a  man  of  a  resolute,  arbitrary  disposition,  might  have 
made  a  decent  wife ;  but  she  was  extravagant,  and  given 
up  to  dissipation,  and  my  uncle's  open,  unsuspecting 
temper  gave  her  full  liberty  to  indulge  the  vanity  of  her 
heart.  I  have  been  very  particular  in  her  character  that 
you  may  the  more  plainly  see  in  the  progress  of  this  little 
history  the  dangers  I  escaped  from  her  example  and 
attempts  upon  me ;  and  when  I  considered  the  risks 
I  must  have  run  under  the  conduct  of  such  a  woman, 
I  was  thankful  to  Providence  for  my  present  situation, 
and  that  reflection  reconciled  me  more  to  it  than  all  my 
reasoning  before  could  possibly  do.' 
26 


MRS.  DELANY 

Mrs.  Pendarves,  as  a  new  beauty,  with  an  elderly 
husband  who  neglected  her  for  the  bottle,  soon  found 
herself  exposed  to  the  admiration  and  warm  attentions  of 
the  young  men  of  fashion  of  the  day.  '  It  was  not  my 
turn,'  she  observes,  '  to  be  pleased  with  such  votaries,  and 
the  apprehension  of  Gromio's  jealousy  kept  me  on  my 
guard,  and  by  a  dull,  cold  behaviour  I  soon  gave  them  to 
understand  that  they  were  to  receive  no  encouragement 
from  me.'  With  all  her  prudence  and  caution,  how- 
ever, Mary  found  it  a  difficult  task  to  avoid  being  com- 
promised by  her  numerous  admirers.  The  details  of 
these  one-sided  love  affairs  are  not  without  interest,  if 
only  because  they  are  illustrative  of  the  manners  and 
morals  of  society  under  George  i.  They  prove,  for  one 
thing,  that  the  many  passages  in  the  novels  of  the  period, 
where  the  virtuous  heroines  find  themselves  involved  in 
delicate  and  dangerous  situations  through  the  treachery 
of  their  admirers,  are  more  true  to  life  than  has  been 
generally  supposed. 

Mrs.  Pendarves's  most  determined  lover  was  the 
Hanoverian  Ambassador,  M.  Fabrici,  who  figures  in 
the  autobiography  under  the  name  of  Germanico. 
'  His  figure,'  she  writes,  *  was  by  no  means  agreeable, 
his  manner  forward  and  assured,  and  his  age  placed 
him  among  those  that  I  could  not  imagine  had  any 
gallantry  in  their  head — but  I  was  mistaken.  He  was 
often  in  my  company.  The  first  time  was  at  a  ball 
given  by  one  of  the  Foreign  Ministers  (the  Danish 
Ambassador),  where,  unfortunately  for  me,  he  engaged 
me  to  dance  with  him.  That  gave  him  a  pretence  for 
talking  to  me  whenever  we  afterwards  met ;  but  as  I  did 
not  observe  anything  in  his  behaviour  to  me  that  could 
give  me  offence,  I  behaved  towards  him  with  the  same 

27  ' 


MRS.  DELANY 

indifference  I  did  to  my  general  acquaintance.  He  was 
to  give  an  entertainment  of  music  and  supper  to  some 
relations  and  friends  of  mine,  and  he  engaged  them  to 

*  o    o 

bring  me  with  them.  I  consented,  and  at  nine  o'clock 
we  went.  We  were  twelve  in  company,  and  nothing 
could  have  been  more  gay  and  magnificent  than  the 
music  and  supper.  When  we  sat  down  to  table  it  was 
proposed  we  should  sit  a  man  and  a  woman ;  it  was  my 
place  to  sit  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  and  Germanico 
sat  next  me,  but  I  soon  wished  for  another  neighbour. 
He  stared  at  me  the  whole  night,  and  put  me  so  much 
out  of  countenance  that  I  was  ready  to  cry.  He  soon 
checked  all  my  pleasure  in  the  entertainment.  I  showed 
all  the  signs  of  discontent  I  could,  inquired  if  my  chair 
was  come,  looked  at  my  watch  twenty  times ;  at  last, 
to  my  relief,  the  company  broke  up.  I  took  a  hood  out 
of  my  pocket  to  put  on,  and  Germanico  gave  me  a  paper 
which  he  said  I  had  dropped.  He  led  me  to  my  chair, 
squeezed  my  hand,  and  offered  to  kiss  it,  but  I  snatched 
it  from  him  with  the  highest  resentment.  I  was  greatly 
offended  with  his  impertinence,  and  heartily  repented 
of  my  supping  there.  I  abhorred  the  wretch,  and  could 
not  forgive  his  presumption,  but  how  was  my  detestation 
increased  a  day  or  two  after  this  odious  supper,  when, 
sorting  some  papers  I  had  in  my  pocket,  I  found  a  letter 
from  Germanico,  with  a  passionate  declaration  of  love  ! 
I  threw  it  into  the  fire  with  the  utmost  indignation. 
This  was  the  paper  .he  pretended  I  had  dropped  from  my 
pocket,  which  I  took  without  the  least  suspicion.' 

In  spite  of  the  lady's  systematic  avoidance  of  him,  the 

ambassador  was  not  discouraged.     During  a  few  weeks1 

stay  at  Windsor  Mrs.  Pendarves  was  invited  by  Lady 

Walsingham,  the  King's  favourite,  to  tea  in  her  apart- 

28 


MRS.  DELANY 

ments  at  the  castle.  Greatly  to  her  distress  she  found 
M.  Fabric!  among  the  guests,  but  she  endeavoured  to 
show  him  by  her  cool  behaviour  that  she  had  a  thorough 
contempt  for  him.  The  hostess  invited  Mrs.  Pendarves 
to  meet  her  the  next  evening  in  the  Little  Park,  to  which 
our  heroine  gladly  agreed,  having  often  wished  for  the 
privilege  of  walking  in  the  enclosure  which  the  windows 
of  her  lodgings  overlooked. 

The  following  evening  at  six  o'clock  Mrs.  Pendarves 
was  informed  by  a  servant  that  Lady  Walsingham  awaited 
her  in  the  Little  Park.  'As  soon  as  I  got  within  the 
gate,"  she  relates,  '  the  servant  locked  me  in.  I  walked 
up  and  down  before  the  castle,  expecting  to  find  Lady 
Walsingham  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  Walk,  when,  to  my 
surprise,  I  saw  only  Germanico  !  I  started  back,  with  the 
intent  to  return,  but,  recollecting  that  the  gate  was 
locked,  I  stopped  for  some  minutes.  I  soon  apprehended 
this  was  a  plot  of  the  audacious  wretch's  contrivance,  and 
a  thousand  fears  crowded  into  my  mind.  However,  I 
thought  it  best  to  walk  towards  him  with  some  confidence, 
though  I  trembled  so  much  that  I  could  hardly  keep  my 
feet.  He  came  up  to  me,  and  threw  himself  upon  his 
knees,  holding  my  petticoat,  and  begged  I  would  forgive 
the  stratagem  he  had  made  use  of  for  an  opportunity  of 
declaring  how  miserable  he  was  upon  my  account.  I 
grew  so  frightened  and  angry  that  I  hardly  heard  what 
he  said,  nor  can  I  exactly  recollect  what  I  said  to  him. 
He  found  it  was  vain  for  him  to  expect  any  favour  from 
me,  but  still  he  would  not  let  me  go.  At  last  I  was  so 
provoked  that  I  assured  him  the  king  should  be  made 
acquainted  with  his  presumption  ;  that,  if  Lady  Walsing- 
ham would  not  do  me  that  justice,  I  had  friends  that 
would  not  have  me  insulted  and  persecuted  in  such  a 

29 


MRS.  DELANY 

manner;  and  that  if  he  did  not  go  instantly  and 
acquaint  Lady  Walsingham  of  my  being  there,  I  would 
go  up  to  the  windows  of  the  apartment  where  I  knew  the 
king  sat  after  dinner,  and  should  not  scruple  of  making 
my  complaint  to  him  aloud.1 

Mrs.  Pendarves's  distress  and  terror  were  greatly  in- 
creased by  the  fact  that  the  walk  in  which  this  conversa- 
tion took  place  was  overlooked  by  the  chamber  window 
at  which  her  husband  usually  sat.  It  was  only  by  a  happy 
chance  that  Gromio  did  not  see  Fabrici  on  his  knees, 
holding  Mary  by  her  skirt.  Fortunately  the  lover, 
alarmed  at  her  threats,  asked  her  pardon  for  his  bold- 
ness, and  entreated  that  she  would  not  ruin  him  by  com- 
plaining of  his  conduct  to  the  king.  Mary  replied  that 
if  he  would  bring  Lady  Walsingham  to  her  at  once,  and 
never  speak  nor  even  bow  to  her  again,  she  would  refrain 
from  exposing  him.  Fabrici  kept  his  word,  and  they 
never  met  but  once  after  that  dramatic  interview  in  the 
Little  Park. 

Shortly  before  this  time  Mary  had  suffered  the  great 
sorrow  of  losing  her  father,  to  whom  she  had  always  been 
devoted.  Mrs.  Granville  and  her  daughter  Anne  left 
Buckland  after  Colonel  Granville^s  death,  and  settled  at 
Gloucester.  Anne  was  now  grown,  writes  her  sister,  'a 
very  reasonable  and  entertaining  companion.  She  had  a 
lively  genius,  loved  reading,  and  had  an  excellent  memory. 
I  was  surprised  at  her  understanding,  and  the  delicacy 
of  her  sentiments  delighted  me  still  more.  From  that 
time  I  had  perfect  confidence  in  her,  told  her  some  of  my 
distresses,  and  found  great  consolation  and  relief  by  this 
opening  of  my  heart,  and  from  her  great  tenderness  and 
friendship  for  me.1 

The  return  of  Lady  Lansdowne  from  a  long  residence 
30 


MRS.  DELANY 

in  Paris  brought  a  new  danger  into  her  niece's  life.  The 
aunt's  beauty  was  now  on  the  decline,  but  her  love  of 
admiration  was  as  strong  as  ever,  and  her  stay  in  Paris 
had  increased  her  taste  for  extravagance  and  dissipation. 
'  The  company  I  met  at  her  house,'  writes  Mrs.  Pendarves, 
4  were  free,  libertine  people,  and  I  was  often  shocked.  I 
once  took  courage,  told  her  my  opinion,  and  what  the 
world  said  of  her  conduct.  She  carried  it  off  with  a 
laugh,  but  never  forgave  it,  and  from  that  day  made 
use  of  all  her  arts  to  draw  me  into  a  share  in  her 
misconduct.1 

The  instrument  she  chose  for  her  purpose  was  Lord 
Clare,  who  had  for  some  time  been  her  humble  servant, 
but  of  whom  she  was  now  weary.  An  open  profession  of 
his  passion  for  her  niece  was  treated  by  Lady  Lansdowne 
as  an  excellent  joke,  but  Mary  expressed  great  resent- 
ment at  thus  being  insulted  in  her  aunt's  house,  and  for 
several  weeks  avoided  every  place  where  she  might  be 
likely  to  meet  her  admirer.  One  day,  as  she  was  sitting 
by  her  husband's  bedside,  reading  aloud  to  him,  a  servant 
brought  in  a  letter.  It  was  from  Lord  Clare,  and  in  it 
'he  deplored  my  unhappy  situation  in  being  nurse  to 
an  old  man,  and  declared  most  passionately  his  admiration 
for  me,  and  that  he  could  teach  me  better  lessons  than 
I  found  in  the  romances  which  I  was  so  fond  of  reading, 
and  which  made  me  so  shy  and  reserved,  so  cruel  and 
haughty.' 

By  a  lucky  chance  Mr.  Pendarves  had  fallen  asleep, 
so  that  Mary  was  able,  unquestioned,  to  destroy  the  letter 
which,  to  her  intense  indignation,  she  learnt  had  been 
brought  by  one  of  Lady  Lansdowne's  servants.  This 
resolved  her  to  go  no  more  to  her  aunt's  house,  but  as 
her  avoidance  of  so  near  a  relative  had  aroused  her 

31 


MRS.  DELANY 

husband's  suspicions,  she  thought  it  prudent  to  go  one 
day  when  she  heard  that  Lady  Lansdowne  was  indis- 
posed. 'I  found  her  alone,'  she  relates,  'and  took  the 
opportunity  to  reproach  her  for  allowing  Clario  [Lord 
Clare]  to  behave  himself  towards  me^as  he  had  done. 
She  laughed  at  my  prudery,  as  she  called  it,  and  said 
I  was  a  fool.  Immediately,  Clario  came  in,  and  I  rose  to 
be  gone,  upon  which  she  ordered  him  to  lock  the  doors, 
which  he  did,  and  then  pretended  to  be  very  humble  and 
respectful.  I  entreated  Laura  to  let  me  go — all  to  no 
purpose.  She  vowed  I  should  not  go  till  after  supper, 
sent  away  my  coach,  and  kept  me  by  violence.  When  I 
found  that  there  was  to  be  a  great  deal  of  company  I  grew 
more  composed,  but  did  not  open  my  lips  to  speak  one 
word.  Clario  kept  me  in  continual  confusion  all  the 
evening  with  his  particular  attention  to  me,  though  the 
rest  of  the  company  were  so  much  engaged  with  each 
other  they  attended  to  nothing  else,  but  had  they  ob- 
served Clario  it  would  not  have  offended  them  as  it  did 
me ;  their  wonder  would  have  been  at  my  uneasiness,  for 
he  was  thought  an  Adonis  by  that  set  of  ladies,  but  in 
my  eyes  he  was  most  despicable,  and  excessively  vain  of 
his  person. 

1  When  supper  was  over  the  gaiety  of  the  company 
increased,  and  with  it  my  uneasiness.  They  sung  French 
catches,  which  gave  me  unspeakable  offence,  and  when 
this  was  over,  one  of  the  ladies  proposed  that  the  same 
party  should  meet  at  her  house,  and  desired  a  day  might 
be  fixed ;  which  was  accordingly  done,  and  agreed  to  by 
everybody  but  me.  I  said  I  was  engaged ;  another  day 
was  named,  and  I  was  still  engaged;  a  third  day  was 
named,  and  then  I  resolutely  said  I  was  engaged  for  as 
many  days  as  she  could  name,  glad  of  the  opportunity  of 
32 


MRS.  DELANY 

showing  my  detestation  of  so  dangerous  a  society.  Upon 
this  they  immediately  broke  up,  and  we  all  went  to  our 
different  homes.  Clario,  by  the  treachery  of  Laura,  stole 
a  slight  ring  from  me  which  I  put  off  when  I  washed  my 
hands  after  supper.  It  gave  me  some  vexation,  not 
knowing  what  boast  or  ill  use  he  might  make  of  it,  but 
from  that  time  I  saw  no  more  of  him,  as  he  left  England 
in  a  few  days.' 

At  this  period  one  of  Mrs.  Pendarves's  chief  pleasures 
was  to  write  long  letters  to  her  sister,  in  which  she  gives 
minute  details  of  the  fashions  and  follies  of  town  life. 
'  When  I  am  writing  to  you,'  she  says,  '  I  am  so  intent 
upon  the  subject  that  I  forget  all  things  but  yourself, 
and  by  that  means  you  can  never  fail  of  a  long  letter 
from  me,  for  I  never  grow  weary;  and  when  I  have 
finished  my  letter  I  am  sorry  to  think  the  conversation  is 
broke  off,  for,  imperfect  as  it  is,  it  gives  me  more  satis- 
faction than  any  personal  one  that  I  meet  with  here. 
Though  so  many  hills  and  vales  separate  our  bodies, 
thought  makes  up  in  some  measure  for  that  misfortune, 
and  though  my  eyes  are  shut  I  can  see  my  dearest  sister 
in  my  dreams.' 

In  these  confidential  epistles  we  hear  of  the  grand 
doings  at  the  wedding  of  my  Lady  Walpole  (1724), 
'Where  the  bride  wore  the  handsomest  and  richest  gold 
and  white  stuff  that  ever  I  saw,  a  fine  point  head,  and 
brilliant  earrings  and  cross.  Everybody  had  favours  that 
went.  They  are  silver  gauze  six  bows,  and  eight  of 
narrow  gold  ribbon;  they  cost  a  guinea  apiece,  and 
eight  hundred  have  already  been  disposed  of.'  Then 
there  is  an  account  of  the  fine  clothes  that  were  worn 
at  the  birthday,  and  of  the  marriage  of  the  young  widow, 
Lady  Sunderland,  to  Sir  Richard  Sutton,  at  which  Mary 
c  33 


MRS.  DELANY 

was  present  as  one  of  the  bride's  most  intimate  friends. 
'  I  hope  she  will  be  very  happy,'  she  writes.  '  I  think 
there  is  every  appearance  of  her  being  so ;  her  house  is 
charmingly  furnished  with  pictures,  glass,  tapestry,  and 
damask,  all  superfine  of  their  kind.1  This  sentence 
comes  rather  oddly  from  the  pen  of  the  young  wife 
who  had  proved  in  her  own  person  the  fallacy  of 
the  eighteenth-century  doctrine  that  luxury  necessarily 
spells  happiness  for  a  woman. 

In  1724  all  the  gaieties  were  put  a  stop  to  by  the 
sudden  death  of  Mr.  Pendarves.  Mary  could  not  honestly 
affirm  that  she  regretted  her  husband,  but  the  manner  of 
his  death  gave  her  a  violent  shock.  On  returning  from 
a  party  one  night  she  found  that  her  husband,  contrary 
to  his  usual  custom,  had  reached  home  before  her.  '  He 
said  many  kind  things,"1  she  writes,  '  on  my  having  made 
him  a  good  wife,  and  wished  he  might  live  to  reward  me. 
I  never  heard  him  say  so  much  on  that  subject.'  He  also 
expressed  a  desire  to  sign  his  will,  saying  that  he  should 
feel  happier  when  he  had  done  so,  but  Mary,  thinking 
he  was  low,  begged  him  to  defer  it  until  the  morrow. 
He  slept  very  uneasily,  drawing  his  breath  with  great 
difficulty.  At  seven  o'clock,  as  his  wife  put  back  the 
curtain  to  get  up,  she  was  terrified  to  see  that  he  was 
quite  black  in  the  face.  At  first  she  thought  him  in 
a  fit,  but  presently  it  struck  her  that  he  was  dead. 

4 1  ran  screaming  out  of  my  room,'  she  tells  us,  *  and 
almost  out  of  my  senses.  My  servant  sent  for  an  old 
lady,  a  friend  of  mine,  who  lived  in  the  same  street ;  she 
came  immediately.  Physicians  and  surgeons  were  sent 
for,  but  too  late — they  judged  he  had  been  dead  about 
two  hours.  My  friends  were  all  sent  to.  Valeria  insisted 
on  my  going  home  with  her,  which  I  did,  and  which  so 
34 


MRS.  DELANY 

offended  Laura  that  I  think  she  never  forgave  it,  but  I 
did  not  dare  to  trust  her.  I  knew  the  wisdom  and  good- 
ness of  Sebastian  [Sir  John  Stanley],  and  Valeria  would  be 
the  surest  refuge  I  could  fly  to  at  a  time  when  I  might 
be  exposed  to  the  insidious  temptations  and  wicked  arts 
of  the  world.  I  was  now  to  enter  it  again  on  a  new 
footing.' 


CHAPTER   III 

(1724-1729) 

AFTER  Mr.  Pendarves's  death  it  was  discovered  that  so  far 
from  having  settled  his  whole  estate  upon  his  wife,  as  he 
had  promised,  he  had  only  left  her  a  modest  income  of  a 
few  hundreds  a  year.  This  alteration  in  her  prospects 
seems  to  have  been  regarded  with  absolute  unconcern  by 
Mrs.  Pendarves,  who,  except  for  a  righteous  horror  of 
debt,  showed  throughout  her  whole  life  a  sublime  in- 
difference to  the  state  of  her  exchequer.  She  contrived 
always  to  adapt  her  needs  to  her  income,  and  yet  to  hold 
her  own  in  the  most  brilliant  society  of  her  day. 

The  first  months  of  widowhood  were  spent  with  Sir 
John  and  Lady  Stanley,  either  in  town  or  at  their  country 
villa  at  Northend.  The  period  of  mourning  was  scarcely 
half  over  before  more  lovers  appeared  upon  the  scene. 
The  first  of  these  was  Mr.  Henry  Monk,  a  nephew  of 
Sir  John's,  who  is  described  as  a  lively,  good-humoured 
young  man,  but  uncultivated,  with  a  moderate  under- 
standing, and  no  knowledge  of  the  world.  Sir  John 
supported  his  suit,  much  to  the  surprise  and  mortifica- 
tion of  his  niece,  for  she  was  unable  to  understand  how 
suitability  of  fortune  could  make  her  uncle  desire  to  see 
her  mated  to  so  unsuitable  a  person.  The  declared  suitor 
was  soon  dismissed,  but  there  was  another,  undeclared, 
who  was  far  more  dangerous  to  the  young  widow^s  peace 
36 


MRS.  DELANY 

of  mind.  This  was  Lord  Baltimore,  who,  with  his  sister, 
Mrs.  Hyde,  had  been  introduced  to  Mrs.  Pendarves  some 
years  before  her  husband"^  death,  and  had  been  numbered 
among  her  most  intimate  friends.  In  the  autobiography 
Lord  Baltimore,  under  the  name  of  Herminius,  is  described 
as  '  a  young  man  in  great  fashion  at  that  time,  very  hand- 
some, genteel,  polite,  and  unaffected.  .  .  .  He  behaved 
with  the  greatest  respect  imaginable,  and  with  so  much 
reserve  that  I  had  not  the  least  suspicion  of  his  having 
any  particular  attachment  to  me,  but  I  feared  his  grow- 
ing particular,  though  from  a  different  motive  to  what  I 
had  feared  it  in  others.  I  thought  him  more  agreeable 
than  any  one  I  had  ever  known,  and  consequently  more 
dangerous .'' 

Mrs.  Pendarves's  widowhood  had  lasted  only  six  months 
when  Lord  Baltimore  sent  to  know  if  she  would  allow 
him  to  wait  upon  her.  She  could  not  refuse  his  request, 
and  '  Herminius '  continued  very  assiduous  in  his  visits. 
'  His  manner,1  she  writes,  '  gave  me  reason  to  believe  that 
he  had  a  particular  regard  for  me,  and  I  confess  I  wished 
it  might  be  so ;  and  it  gave  me  resolution  absolutely  to 
refuse  Henricus  [Mr.  Monk].'  While  this  pseudo-court- 
ship drifted  on,  Mary,  whose  heart  was  more  engaged  than 
she  cared  to  avow,  writes  to  her  sister  in  the  best  of 
spirits,  and  gives  an  animated  account  of  her  thoughts, 
occupations,  and  amusements.  In  November  1726  she 
writes  from  Northend : 

'To-morrow  we  shall  go  to  London.  We  dine  with 
Sir  John  at  Somerset  House :  at  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon comes  my  lawyer  and  my  tailor,  two  necessary 
animals.  Next  morning  I  send  for  Mr.  Woodfields  to 
alter  my  white  tabby  and  my  new  clothes,  and  to  take 
my  black  velvet  to  make ;  then  comes  Mr.  Boreau  to  clip 

37 


MRS.  DELANY 

my  locks,  then  I  dress  to  visit  Lady  Carteret,1  then  I  come 
home  to  dinner,  then  I  drink  coffee  after  dinner,  then  I 
go  to  see  my  niece  Bassett  and  Mrs.  Livingstone,  then 
they  reproach  me,  then  I  give  them  as  good  as  they  bring, 
then  we  are  good  friends  again,  then  I  come  back,  then 
if  it  is  a  possible  thing  I  will  write  to  mamma,  and  then 
sup  and  go  to  bed  .  .  .  Last  Saturday  I  was  at  Camilla 
with  Lady  Carteret.  That  morning  I  was  entertained 
with  Cuzzoni.  Oh,  how  charming !  How  did  I  wish  for 
all  I  love  to  be  with  me  at  that  instant !  My  senses  were 
ravished  with  harmony.  They  say  we  shall  have  operas 
in  a  fortnight,  but  I  think  Madame  Sandoni  and  Faustina 
are  not  agreed  about  their  parts.  .  .  .' 

'Jan.  26,  1727. 

4  This  day  dines  here  Lord  and  Lady  Fitzwilliam  and 
the  charming  Faustina,  who  is  the  most  agreeable  creature 
in  the  world,  and  we  are  to  have  our  senses  ravished  by 
her  melodious  voice.  Oh,  that  you  had  wings !  Mrs. 
Legh  is  transported  with  joy  at  living  once  more  in 
"dear  London^"  and  hearing  Mr.  Handel's  operas  per- 
formed by  Faustina,  Cuzzoni,  and  Senesino.  To  add  to 
her  joys  some  one  has  presented  her  with  a  pelican,  crane, 
and  a  little  St.  Anthony  in  wood.  I  design  to  get  her  a 
pig,  and  send  it  by  the  porter,  for  a  St.  Anthony  is 
nothing  without  his  pig ! ' 

The  fascinating  Herminius  still  continued  his  wooing 
after  rather  an  erratic  fashion.  We  learn  from  the 
autobiography  that  on  one  occasion  he  invited  Mrs. 
Pendarves  to  a  party  on  the  river.  '  He  said  his 
sister  was  ready  to  wait  on  me,  and  desired  me  to  take 
what  company  I  pleased;  he  had  bespoke  a  barge 

1  Lord  Carteret  was  related  to  Mrs.  Pendarves  through  his  mother, 
Lady  Grace  Granville,  daughter  of  the  first  Earl  of  Bath. 
38 


MRS.  DELANY 

of  musick  to  attend  us.  The  temptation  was  almost 
irresistible,  but  I  thought  it  not  prudent,  and  refused  all 
his  entreaties,  at  which  he  left  me,  disappointed  and 
chagrined,  and  instead  of  going  on  the  water  he  went  to 
the  tennis-court,  where  a  ball  struck  him  between  the 
eyes  and  knocked  him  down.  All  the  company  thought 
him  killed,  and  he  was  earned  to  his  sister's  house  welter- 
ing in  his  blood,  but  with  some  signs  of  life.  His  sister 
sent  me  a  letter  to  inform  me  of  this,  and  to  beg  to  see 
me  as  soon  as  possible.  The  next  day  I  went  to  town. 
When  I  came  to  Charlotte's  house,  I  found  her  drowned 
in  tears,  and  under  the  greatest  apprehension  for  her 
brother's  life.  He  had  lost  so  great  a  quantity  of  blood 
that  he  was  reduced  to  the  lowest  weakness.  He  said  he 
wished  extremely  to  see  me,  and  begged  of  me  to  go  to 
his  bedside.  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  do  it,  and  was 
resolute  in  my  refusal,  and  poor  Charlotte  thought  me 
inhuman ;  but  I  left  her  with  a  promise  that  if  he 
continued  as  ill  the  next  day,  and  desired  to  see  me,  I 
would  not  refuse  him.  At  length  his  vouth  prevailed, 
and  he  grew  better.  I  avoided  going  to  town,  thinking 
it  sufficient  to  send  and  inquire  after  him. 

4  Soon  after  Herminius  going  out  of  town,  I  received  a 
letter  from  him  to  return  me  thanks  for  the  concern  I 
had  expressed  in  him,  and  to  assure  me  that  his  recovery 
was  more  owing  to  that  than  to  the  skill  of  his  physicians, 
and  concluding  with  some  warm  expressions  of  his  great 
regard.  I  went  to  Tunbridge  at  the  end  of  that  season, 
but  heard  nothing  of  him.  At  my  return  to  town  he 
came  to  see  me,  and  told  me  he  was  going  to  make  a  tour 
abroad  for  three  months,  and  had  fitted  up  a  little  vessel 
for  that  purpose;  that  he  had  great  lowness  of  spirits, 
partly  occasioned  by  his  late  accident  at  tennis,  and  some 

39 


MRS.  DELANY 

vexation  he  had  met  with;  that  before  he  left  he  had 
a  request  to  make  to  me,  which,  if  I  knew  how  great  his 
regard  was  for  me,  and  how  much  his  happiness  depended 
on  it,  I  would  not  refuse  him.  He  paused,  and  I  was 
in  such  confusion  I  could  not  say  a  word,  nor  could  I 
guess  what  this  earnest  request  was  to  be.  At  last  he 
begged  me  to  give  him  my  picture  in  miniature  to  take 
with  him.  I  told  him  it  could  not  be,  I  did  not  think  it 
right,  and  I  hoped  he  would  not  be  offended  at  my 
refusing  it.  He  looked  vexed  and  disappointed,  but 
made  me  a  thousand  expressions  of  love  and  esteem. 

*  So  we  parted,  neither  of  us  pleased  with  the  other ;  I 
looked  upon  him  as  a  flatterer,  and  was  at  a  loss  to  know 
what  his  intentions  were.' 

While  this  unsatisfactory  romance  lingered  on,  Mrs. 
Pendarves  kept  up  her  sisterly  correspondence  in  her  usual 
sprightly  vein.  From  her  journal-letters  we  learn  that 
Mary,  always  an  enthusiast  for  good  music,  is  a  frequent 
visitor  to  the  opera,  and  that  she  divides  her  affections 
between  Cuzzoni  and  the  Faustina,  the  latter  being 
described  as  'the  most  delightful  person  in  the  world 
except  the  Lord  Mayor ! '  In  a  letter  written  on 
October  5,  1727,  she  writes,  'I  was  at  Court  last 
Thursday  morning,  and  the  king  asked  me  if  I  had  been 
in  Cornwall,  for  he  had  not  seen  me  for  a  great  while. 
The  queen  has  on  her  petticoat  for  the  Coronation 
twenty-four  thousand  pounds'  worth  of  jewels.' 

In  a  letter  dated  '  the  day  after  the  Coronation,'  a  full 
and  particular  description  is  given  of  that  imposing  cere- 
mony. By  dint  of  setting  out  at  half-past  four  in  the 
morning,  being  squeezed  nearly  flat,  and  losing  her  cloak, 
Mrs.  Pendarves  obtained  a  good  seat  in  Westminster 
Hall,  whence  the  procession  started,  and  whither  their 
40 


MRS.  DELANY 

majesties  returned  to  dine.  'The  dresses  of  the  ladies 
were  becoming,1  she  writes,  '  and  most  of  them  immensely 
rich.  Lady  Delawar  was  one  of  the  best  figures ;  the 
Duchess  of  Queensberry  depended  so  much  upon  her 
native  beauty  that  she  despised  all  adornment,  nor  had 
not  one  jewel,  riband,  or  puff'  to  set  her  off,  but  every- 
body thought  she  did  not  appear  to  advantage.  The 
Duchess  of  Richmond  pleased  everybody  :  she  looked  easy 
and  genteel,  with  the  utmost  sweetness  in  her  countenance. 
In  short,  all  the  ladies,  young  and  middle-aged,  though 
not  handsome,  looked  agreeable  and  well.  .  .  . 

*  The  queen  never  was  so  well  liked :  her  clothes  were 
extravagantly  fine,  though  they  did  not  make  show 
enough  for  the  occasion,  but  she  walked  gracefully,  and 
smiled  on  all  as  she  passed  by.  .  .  .  Princess  Anne  and 
her  two  sisters  held  up  the  tip  of  the  train ;  they  were 
dressed  in  stiff  bodices  of  silver  tissue  with  diadems  on 
their  heads,  and  purple  mantles  edged  with  ermine. 
After  those  walked  the  Duchess  of  Dorset  and  Lady 
Sussex,  two  ladies  of  the  bedchamber  in  waiting;  then 
the  two  finest  figures  of  all  the  procession,  Mrs.  Herbert 
and  Mrs.  Howard,  the  bedchamber  women  in  waiting,  in 
gowns  also,  but  so  rich,  so  genteel,  "so  perfectly  well- 
dressed,  that  any  description  must  do  them  an  injury. 

'  I  could  hardly  see  the  king,  for  he  walked  much  under 
his  canopy.  The  room  was  finely  illuminated ;  there 
were  eighteen  hundred  candles  besides  those  on  the  tables, 
and  all  were  lighted  in  three  minutes  by  an  invention  of 
Mr.  Heidegger's.  It  was  not  disagreeable  to  be  taken 
note  of  by  one^s  acquaintance  when  they  appeared  to  so 
much  advantage,  for  everybody  I  knew  came  under  the 
place  where  I  sat  to  offer  me  meat  and  drink,  which  was 
drawn  up  from  below  into  the  galleries  by  baskets  at  the 

41 


MRS.  DELANY 

end  of  a  long  string,  which  they  filled  with  cold  meat  and 
bread,  sweetmeats,  and  wine.1 

The  next  grand  piece  of  gaiety  was  the  Lord  Mayor's 
feast  to  which  the  king  and  queen  went  in  state.  Mrs. 
Pendarves  and  her  party  were  bidden  to  dine  at  the  Lady 
Mayoress1  own  table,  '  an  honour  not  to  be  refused,  and 
indeed  it  was  a  very  particular  favour.'  '  Masquerades,'  she 
continues,  '  are  gone  out  of  fashion,  but  there  is  to  be  a 
barefaced  entertainment  in  the  shape  of  subscription 
balls.'  In  spite  of  all  her  frivolities,  Mary  found  time 
to  keep  up  her  reading.  At  one  period  she  is  engaged 
upon  a  long-forgotten  tragedy  of  Lord  Orrery's,  at 
another  she  is  enjoying  one  of  the  interminable  French 
romances  that  formed  the  favourite  reading  of  fine 
ladies  in  the  reign  of  George  n.  She,  who  through- 
out her  life  showed  a  positive  genius  for  friendship,  is 
charmed  with  a  passage  in  St.  Evremond  to  the  effect 
that  friendship  'softens  and  mitigates  old  afflictions, 
and  raises  good  fortune  to  a  double  pitch  of  felicity. 
Without  the  communication  of  a  real  friend,  sorrow 
would  sink  one  to  the  lowest  ebb,  and  pleasures  lose  half 
their  advantage.'  Again  she  quotes  with  enthusiasm  : 
'Epicurus  declares  it  his  opinion  that  wisdom  among 
all  the  ingredients  of  happiness  has  not  a  nobler,  a  richer, 
or  a  more  delightful  one  than  friendship.  I  could  hug 
the  old  philosophers  whenever  I  meet  with  a  passage 
that  speaks  my  own  sentiments.  The  book  that  has 
obliged  me  with  this  sentence  has  no  meaner  person  for  its 
author  than  Cicero,  and  the  title  is  Tully  of'  Moral  Ends. 
I  have  read  but  half  yet,  and  though  I  quote  Epicurus,  I 
at  present  have  no  vast  opinion  of  him,  but  Cicero  charms 
me  with  his  eloquence,  and  I  am  delighted  to  have  that 
sensual  philosopher  confuted  in  his  false  opinions.' 
42 


MRS.  DELANY 

Perhaps  Mrs.  Pendarves  regarded  friendship  and 
philosophy  as  consolations  which  might  in  some  degree 
recompense  her  for  the  strange  behaviour  of  her  lover, 
though  judging  from  her  letters  her  spirits  were  not  as 
yet  much  affected  by  his  vacillation.  She  writes  from 
Northend  in  May  1728  : 

'  Oh,  the  charming  month  of  May — charming,  charming 
May.  June  succeeds  May,  and,  please  God,  I  will  be  with 
you  before  the  1st  of  July.  .  .  .  Last  week  as  we  were 
sauntering  in  the  King's  Road  to  take  a  little  air,  we  met 
Princess  Amelia  on  her  way  to  the  Bath.  She  is  earned 
in  a  chair,  not  being  able  to  bear  the  motion  of  a  coach ; 
our  coach  was  very  close  to  her,  and  she  looked  very 
smiling  and  pretty,  bowed  to  us  all,  and  asked  who  we 
were.  I  wish  the  Bath  may  do  her  good,  for  she  has 
lived  a  life  of  misery,  and  everybody  commends  her 
temper.  .  .  .  Pray  what  cavaliers  have  you  now  at  Glou- 
cester ?  My  Lord  Essex  has  lost  his  only  son,  but  a  new 
match  at  Newmarket  will  dispel  his  grief.  I  doubt  my 
aunt  is  very  bad,  but  she  will  not  own  it,  nor  do  any  one 
thing  she  is  ordered  .  .  .  London  is  so  full  of  entertain- 
ment that  if  I  lived  a  polite  life  I  should  not  have  one 
moment  my  own.  There  is  to  be  four  opera  nights  more, 
and  then  adieu  to  harmony  of  that  kind  for  ever  and 
ever.  Next  Wednesday  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  gives  a 
masquerade ;  everybody  is  to  be  extravagantly  fine,  and 
to  pull  off  their  masks  before  they  leave  the  house.  .  .  . 

'I  hope  your  waxworks  will  not  leave  Glos'ter  till  I 
come,  for  I  have  had  no  opportunity  of  seeing  it  in 
London,  for  you  must  know  in  London  it  is  as  bad  as 
incontinence  to  go  out  privately  in  a  hackney-coach 
betimes  in  the  morning,  and  we  are  such  sanctified  souls 
in  this  part  of  the  world  that  'tis  insurmountable  scandal 

43 


MRS.  DELANY 

to  see  a  nudity.  I  find  country  innocence  is  not  so  soon 
shocked.  Perhaps  Gloucester  air  may  give  me  courage  to 
view  the  wonderful  works  of  Nature ;  but  without  banter- 
ing, it  is  a  sight  I  have  long  wanted  to  see,  and  am  told 
by  everybody  'tis  worth  my  curiosity.1 

The  opera  played  a  great  part  in  Mrs.  Pendarves's  life, 
and  Mr.  Handel  was  her  idol.  '  Yesterday  I  was  at  the 
rehearsal  of  the  new  opera  composed  by  Mr.  Handel,'  she 
had  written  a  few  months  earlier.  '  I  liked  it  extremely, 
but  the  taste  of  the  town  is  so  depraved  that  nothing  will 
be  approved  of  but  burlesque.  The  Beggars'  Opera 
entirely  triumphs  over  the  Italian  one.  I  have  not  yet 
seen  it,  but  everybody  says  it  is  very  comical,  and  full  of 
humour ;  the  songs  will  soon  be  published,  and  I  will  send 
them  to  you.  .  .  .  The  opera  will  not  survive  after  this 
winter ;  I  wish  I  was  a  poet  worthy  the  honour  of  writing 
its  elegy.  I  am  certain,  except  some  few,  the  English 
have  no  real  taste  for  musick ;  for  if  they  had,  they  could 
not  neglect  an  entertainment  so  perfect  in  its  kind  for  a 
parcel  of  ballad-singers.  I  am  so  peevish  about  it,  that 
I  have  no  patience.  M.  Voltaire's  Henriade  is  not  yet 
come  out ;  'tis  writ  in  French,  which  for  your  sake  I  am 
sorry  for.  You  may  remember  in  his  criticism  on 
Milton  a  passage  he  takes  notice  of,  and  finds  great  fault 
with — of  the  allegory  of  Sin  and  Death — upon  which  my 
Lord  Hervey  said  of  Voltaire,  who  has  not  the  reputation 
of  being  the  best  man  in  the  world  : 

' ' '  So  much  confusion,  so  wicked,  and  so  thin, 
He  seems  at  once  a  Chaos,  Death  and  Sin." 

'  He  spoke  it  extempore.1 

Mrs.  Pendarves  was  always  a  loyal  subject,  in  spite  of 
the   former  Jacobite   leanings   of   her   family,   and   she 
44 


MRS.  DELANY 

seldom  failed  to  pay  her  duty  at  Court  on  the  occasion  of 
a  Royal  birthday  or  other  state  ceremony.  In  March 
1729  she  writes :  '  On  Saturday,  the  1st  day  of  March, 
it  being  the  queen's  birthday,  I  dressed  myself  in  all 
my  best  array,  borrowed  my  Lady  Sunderland's  jewels, 
and  made  a  tearing  show.  I  went  with  my  Lady 
Carteret  and  her  two  daughters.  There  was  a  vast 
Court,  and  Lady  Carteret  got  with  some  difficulty 
to  the  circle,  and  after  she  had  made  her  curtsey, 
made  me  stand  before  her.  The  queen  came  up  to  her, 
and  thanked  her  for  bringing  me  forward,  and  told 
me  she  was  obliged  to  me  for  my  pretty  clothes,  and 
admired  my  Lady  Carterefs  extremely.  She  told  the 
queen  they  were  my  fancy,  and  that  I  drew  the  pattern. 
Her  Majesty  said  she  had  heard  that  I  could  draw  very 
well  (I  can't  think  who  could  tell  her  such  a  story).  She 
took  notice  of  my  jewels ;  I  told  her  they  were  my  Lady 
Sunderland's.  "  Oh,"  says  she,  "  you  were  afraid  I  should 
think  Lord  Selkirk  gave  them  to  you,  but  I  believe  he 
only  admires,  for  he  will  not  be  so  free  of  his  presents." 
I  think  it  is  a  great  condescension  after  this  to  correspond 
with  a  country  girl ! 

'At  night  sure  nothing  but  the  Coronation  could 
exceed  the  squeezing  and  the  crowding  that  was  there. 
However,  a  little  to  compensate  the  fatigues  I  had  under- 
gone, it  was  my  fortune  to  be  thrown  in  the  way  of  Lord 
Baltimore,  who  very  gallantly  got  me  a  seat,  and  sate  down 
beside  me.  His  aunt,  Lady  Betty  Lee,  was  opposite  to 
us.  I  asked  him  why  he  would  not  go  and  pay  his  duty 
to  her.  "  He  hated  to  look  at  her,""  he  said,  "  she  was  so 
confoundedly  ugly,"  and  that  he  should  be  a  happy  man 
were  I  as  ugly.  .  .  . 

'  The  Duchess  of  Queensberry,  to  the  great  amazement 

45 


MRS.  DELANY 

of  the  admiring  world,  is  forbid  the  Court  only  for  being 
solicitous  in  getting  a  subscription  for  Mr.  Gay's  sequel  of 
the  Beggars'  Opera,  which  the  Court  forbid  being  acted, 
on  account  that  it  reflected  on  the  Government.  The 
Duchess  is  a  great  friend  of  Gay's,  and  has  thought  him 
much  injured  ;  upon  which,  to  make  him  some  amends, 
for  he  is  poor,  she  promised  to  get  a  subscription  for  his 
play  if  he  would  print  it.  She  indiscreetly  has  urged  the 
king  and  queen  in  his  behalf,  and  asked  subscriptions  in 
the  drawing-room,  upon  which  she  is  forbid  the  Court,  a 
thing  never  heard  of  before  to  one  of  her  rank;  one 
might  have  imagined  her  beauty  would  have  secured  her 
from  such  treatment.  The  Vice-Chamberlain  went  with 
the  message,  and  she  returned  the  answer  which  I 
have  enclosed : 

'The  Duchess  of  Queensberry  is  surprised  and  well 
pleased  that  the  king  hath  given  her  so  agreeable  a 
command  as  to  stay  from  Court,  where  she  never  came  for 
diversion,  but  to  bestow  a  civility  upon  the  king  and 
queen ;  she  hopes  by  so  unprecedented  an  order  as  this 
that  the  king  will  see  so  few  as  he  wishes  at  his  Court, 
particularly  such  as  dare  to  think  or  speak  truth.  I  dare 
not  do  otherwise,  and  would  not  have  imagined  that  it 
would  not  have  been  the  very  highest  compliment  I  could 
possibly  pay  the  king  to  endeavour  to  support  truth  and 
innocence  in  his  house,  particularly  when  the  King  and 
queen  both  told  me  they  had  not  read  Mr.  Gay's  play. 
I  have  certainly  done  right,  then,  to  stand  by  my  own 
words  rather  than  his  grace  of  Grafton's,  who  hath  neither 
made  use  of  truth,  judgment,  nor  honour  through  this 
whole  affair,  either  for  himself  or  his  friends. 

*  C.  QUEENSBERRY.' 

46 


MRS.  DELANY 

Mrs.  Pendarves  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  her  old 
friend  Sally  Chapone,  n£e  Kirkham,  but  Mrs.  Chapone's 
epistolary  style  was  sometimes  too  pedantic  to  please  the 
simpler  taste  of  her  correspondent.  Writing  to  Anne 
Granville  in  March  1728,  Mary  observes : 

*  Sally's  letters  are  what  I  prize  next  to  yours,  but  her 
last  was  too  crabbed  to  please  me.  She  confounds  me 
with  her  ideas.  I  would  much  rather  that  she  would 
descend  to  the  style  that  I  am  acquainted  with,  for  I 
cannot  deny  my  ignorance,  which  is  so  great  that  I 
do  not  comprehend  her  logic,  and  I  really  think  she  has 
cramped  her  way  of  writing  extremely.  The  beauty  of 
writing  (in  my  opinion)  consists  in  telling  our  sentiments 
in  an  easy,  natural  way;  whatever  expressions  seem 
laboured  must  disgust,  unless  they  discourse  on  an 
abstruse  subject,  and  then  it  must  be  treated  accord- 
ingly. Without  partiality  to  you,  you  have  attained 
that  art  in  writing  which  alone  makes  it  delightful ; 
your  sense  is  so  intelligible  that  it  is  known  at  first 
sight,  whereas  Sally's  is  in  masquerade,  and  I  must 
examine  the  sentence  more  than  once  to  find  her  out; 
but  she  has  fallen  into  this  way  since  her  being  the  half 
of  a  parson,  for  her  letters  used  to  please  as  well  as 
interest.  .  .  . 

'The  Duchess  of  Queensberry  is  still  the  talk  of  the 
town.  She  has  great  reason  to  regret  her  usage,  but  she 
was  provoking  first,  and  her  answer,  though  it  shows 
spirit,  was  not  worded  as  her  friends  could  have  wished : 
good  manners  ought  to  be  observed  to  our  equals,  and 
our  superiors  certainly  have  a  right  to  it.  My  Lady 
Hervey  told  her  the  other  day  that  now  she  was  banished 
the  Court  had  lost  its  chief  ornament.  The  Duchess 
replied,  "I  am  entirely  of  your  mind."  It  is  thought 

47 


MRS.  DELANY 

my  Lady  Hervey  spoke  to  her  with  a  sneer ;   if  so,  her 
grace's  answer  was  a  very  good  one.1 

'April  1st,  1729. 

'Lord  and  Lady  Fitzwilliam,  after  five-and-twenty 
years  of  tolerable  agreement,  are  going  to  be  divorced.  I 
think  if  I  could  live  five-and-twenty  years  with  a  man  I 
could  live  five  hundred.  Nobody  knows  why  they  part, 
but  they  are  peevish  with  one  another ;  'tis  monstrous  to 
think,  with  so  many  children  all  grown  up  to  be  men  and 
women,  that  they  should  expose  themselves  and  their 
children  to  the  calumny  of  the  world.  As  for  the  men, 
the  world  is  apt  to  forget  their  misconduct,  but  young 
ladies,  whose  fate  depends  a  good  deal  upon  the  conduct 
of  their  parents,  must  suffer.  It  is  injustice,  but  it  is  the 
common  way  of  speaking;  who  will  venture  on  the 
daughter  when  the  mother  has  proved  such  a  wife  ?  .  .  . 
Fine  encouragement  this  to  wedlock.  Shall  I  devote  my 
life,  my  heart,  to  a  man,  that  after  all  my  painful 
services  will  be  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  quarrel  with 
me  ?  What  security  have  I  more  than  my  neighbours  to 
defend  me  from  such  a  fate  ?  I  am  frail,  my  temper  is 
apt  to  be  provoked,  and  liberty  of  speech  all  womankind 
has  thought  their  privilege,  and  hard  it  is  to  be  denied 
what  so  long  has  been  allowed  our  prerogative.  The 
greatest  chance  for  avoiding  such  a  misfortune  will  be 
choosing  a  man  of  sense  and  judgment.  But  there's 
the  difficulty;  moneyed  men  are  most  of  them  covetous, 
disagreeable  wretches;  fine  men,  with  titles  and  estates, 
are  coxcombs;  those  of  real  merit  are  seldom  to  be 
found.' 

The  young  widow's  thoughts  were  evidently  running  a 
good  deal  on  men  and  matrimony,  for  in  a  later  letter  she 
48 


MRS.  DELANY 

says,  after  recommending  her  sister  to  read  Madame  de 
Sevigne  :  '  You  may  take  all  my  lovers  amongst  you,  and 
try  what  you  can  make  out  of  them.  Let  me  see,  there 
is  first  Don  Diego,  solemn  and  stately,  and,  if  you  will 
take  his  own  word,  well  read  in  all  arts  and  sciences. 
Passive  obedience  and  non-resistance  is  his  text,  and  the 
doctrine  that  he  will  teach  with  vengeance.  The  next 
is  a  deserter ;  he  can  be  of  no  use,  he  was  a  pretty 
plaything  enough,  could  sing  and  dance,  but  as  he  has 
listed  under  another  banner,  I  strike  him  out  of  my  list. 
Now,  as  to  those  others  laid  to  my  charge,  I  declare 
myself  not  guilty.  The  first  in  quality  is  an  Adonis 
in  person,  but  his  mind,  alas !  how  idle,  how  vain ! 
However,  he  would  make  a  pretty  show  by  a  fair  lady's 
side  in  a  fine  berline,  with  six  prancing  Flanders  mares ; 
and  as  for  his  domestic  behaviour,  he  would  acquit 
himself  as  well  as  most  of  his  neighbours,  but  as  that 
won't  satisfy  me,  I  deliver  him  over  to  society ;  perhaps 
they  will  accept  of  him  on  his  own  terms.  An  alderman, 
a  councillor,  and  two  or  three  more  such  odd  animals,  I 
will  send  down  in  a  bag  together,  and  you  may  cast  lots 
for  them ;  they  are  not  worth  my  wearing.  They  may 
do  well  enough  in  the  country,  but  they  are  as  awkward 
here  as  if  I  was  to  wear  a  commode."1  A  commode  was  a 
large  head-dress,  even  then  regarded  as  old-fashioned, 
which  raised  the  hair  and  the  front  part  of  the  cap  to  a 
great  height.  The  line, 

*  From  under  high  commodes,  with  looks  erect ' 
appears  in  a  poem  of  Lord  Lansdowne's. 


49 


CHAPTER    IV 

(1729-1732) 

IT  was  in  Christmas  week  of  the  year  1729  that  the  long 
spun-out  love  affair  with  Lord  Baltimore  was  brought  to 
an  abrupt  conclusion.  It  will  Be  remembered  that  in  the 
last  instalment  of  the  autobiographical  letters,  it  was 
related  how  the  lover,  after  an  unsatisfactory  interview 
with  his  lady,  had  gone  to  sea  in  his  yacht.  He  remained 
away  the  greater  part  of  the  winter,  and  it  was  reported  that 
his  boat  had  been  wrecked,  and  all  hands  lost.  '  He  was 
much  lamented  by  everybody,'  writes  Mrs.  Pendarves,  with 
her  usual  restraint,  'and  I  own  I  was  not  insensible  on 
the  occasion.  One  night  as  I  was  at  the  drawing-room, 
who  should  I  see  in  the  crowd  but  Herminius  making  his 
way  up  to  the  circle.  As  soon  as  he  had  been  noticed  by 
the  king  he  came  up  to  me :  he  looked  dejected  and  ill, 
which  I  attributed  to  the  great  fatigues  he  had  undergone. 
As  soon  as  I  could  get  a  seat  he  came  and  sat  down  by 
me,  and  expressed  great  satisfaction  at  seeing  me  again. 
I  felt  in  some  confusion,  and  to  disguise  it  rallied  him  on 
his  stratagem  of  giving  out  that  he  was  cast  away  to  try 
how  his  friends  would  lament  him.  He  answered  it  was 
very  indifferent  to  him  what  effect  the  report  had  on  the 
generality  of  the  world :  he  wished  he  could  know  how 
I  had  been  affected  on  the  occasion,  for  that  was  of  more 
consequence  to  him.  I  told  him  very  honestly  and  artlessly 
50 


MRS.  DELANY 

that  I  was  much  concerned,  and  felt  great  satisfaction  at 
seeing  him  safe  returned.  I  had  no  sooner  said  the  words 
than  I  accused  myself  of  having  said  too  much,  and  was 
in  such  confusion  that  I  was  glad  to  leave  my  place  and 
follow  the  lady  with  whom  I  came  to  Court,  and  who 
proposed  our  going  away. 

4  As  I  did  not  frequent  public  places  much,  and  my  aunt, 
I  thought,  would  not  approve  of  my  seeing  Herminius 
often  at  home,  we  seldom  met  that  year,  and  I  was  out 
of  town  the  greatest  part  of  the  summer  and  the  winter 
following.  Towards  the  next  spring  I  came  to  town 
and  settled  in  a  house  by  myself.  I  found  Valeria 
in  a  very  declining  way,  and  my  whole  attention  was 
given  up  to  her  and  my  unfortunate  younger  brother,  on 
whose  account  I  had  been  in  distress  some  years.  One 
night  Valeria  thought  herself  better,  and  insisted  on  my 
going  to  the  opera.  Herminius  was  there,  and  placed 
himself  behind  me.  He  told  me  he  wondered  where  I  had 
buried  myself;  he  could  neither  see  me  at  home  nor 
abroad,  and  that  he  had  been  miserable  to  see  me ;  that 
since  his  opportunities  were  so  few  he  could  no  longer 
help  declaring  that  he  had  been  in  love  with  me  for  five 
years,  during  which  I  had  kept  him  in  such  awe  that  he 
had  not  courage  to  declare  his  love  for  me.  I  was  in  such 
confusion  I  knew  not  what  I  saw  or  heard  for  some  time, 
but  finding  he  was  going  on  with  the  same  subject  I  softly 
begged  that  he  would  not  interrupt  my  attention  to  the 
opera,  as  if  he  had  anything  to  say  to  me  that  was  not 
the  proper  place.  He  then  asked  if  I  should  be  at  home 
next  day.  I  said  I  should. 

4 1  cannot  say  I  listened  much  to  the  music,  and  I  had 
a  secret  satisfaction  in  thinking  this  affair  would  be 
explained  some  way  or  other,  and  free  me  from  the  anxiety 

51 


MRS.  DELANY 

of  uncertainty.  The  next  day  he  came  punctually,  very 
much  dressed,  and  in  good  spirits.  I  cannot  recollect 
minutely  our  conversation.  It  began  with  common  talk 
of  news.  Some  marriage  was  named,  and  we  both  observed 
how  little  probability  of  happiness  there  was  in  most  of 
the  fashionable  marriages  where  interest  and  not  inclina- 
tion was  consulted.  At  last  he  said  he  was  determined 
never  to  marry  unless  he  was  well  assured  of  the  affection 
of  the  person  he  married.  My  reply  was,  Can  you  have 
a  stronger  proof,  if  a  person  is  at  her  own  disposal,  than 
her  consenting  to  marry  you  ?  He  replied  that  was  not 
sufficient.  I  said  he  was  unreasonable,  upon  which  he 
started  up,  and  said,  "  I  find,  madam,  this  is  a  point  on 
which  we  shall  never  agree.1'  He  looked  piqued  and 
angry,  made  a  low  bow,  and  went  away  immediately,  and 
left  me  in  such  confusion  that  I  could  hardly  recollect 
what  had  past,  nor  can  I  to  this  hour — but  from  that 
time  till  he  was  married  we  never  met.'' 

This  account  was  written  some  ten  years  after  the  event, 
but  in  a  letter  to  Anne,  dated  Christmas  Day  1729,  Mary 
gives  a  slight  outline  of  the  unfortunate  ending  of  this 
romance.  She  begins  in  an  unusually  sober  vein  with  the 
announcement  that  she  has  just  returned  from  early 
service  at  St.  James's  Chapel,  and  continues,  '  As  friend- 
ship is  next  in  degree  to  divine  love,  I  don't  know  any 
way  I  can  employ  an  hour  or  two  so  well  as  in  dedicating 
of  it  to  yourself  who  always  inspire  me  with  a  reasonable 
transport,  and  improve  all  my  sentiments.  There  is  great 
satisfaction  in  endeavouring  to  do  one's  duty;  it  gives 
cheerfulness  to  the  heart  that  nothing  can  equal,  and 
there  is  something  so  superior  in  that  pleasure  that  when 
anybody  has  once  tasted  the  delights  of  a  conscience  void 
of  offence,  'tis  surprising  they  should  ever  neglect  so  great 
52 


MRS.  DELANY 

an  advantage.  I  am  frequently  led  to  this  reflection  by 
the  disregard  I  too  often  meet  with  in  conversation  of 
religion.  It  is  treated  entirely  as  priestcraft,  and  people 
are  so  bewitched  to  their  own  loose  way  of  thinking  that 
they  avoid  all  occasions  of  being  convinced  of  the  error. 
It  grieves  me  to  see  the  encouragement  so  frequently 
given  to  vice,  and  no  opportunity  is  lost  of  ridiculing 
virtue.  I  am  convinced  a  sincere  and  honest  friendship 
cultivated  betimes  would  secure  people  from  those  sad 
mistakes.  How  should  I  be  laughed  to  scorn  should  this 
letter  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  fashionable  !  I  should  be 
called  "canter,"  and  you  would  be  despised  for  having 
such  a  correspondent.  .  .  . 

'Bas  [Lord  Baltimore]  made  me  a  visit  on  Monday. 
Saturday  last  I  went  to  the  opera.  He  was  there,  and  sat 
behind  me  the  first  act,  came  again  as  soon  as  the  opera 
was  done,  and  led  me  to  my  chair ;  talked  in  the  old  strain 
of  being  unhappy,  and  that  I  was  to  answer  for  all  his 
flights  and  extravagance.  I  told  him  that  was  so  large 
a  charge  that  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  it  laid  to  my 
account.  I  nettled  him,  and  he  me.  However,  on  Monday 
he  came.  When  he  came  into  the  room  I  could  not  help 
wishing  his  mind  answerable  to  his  person,  for  I  never  saw 
him  look  so  well.  He  sat  down,  and  immediately  asked 
me  if  I  did  not  think  they  were  miserable  people  that 
were  strangers  to  love,  but  added,  You  are  so  great  a 
philosopher  that  I  dread  your  answer.  I  told  him  as  for 
philosophy  I  did  not  pretend  to  it,  but  I  endeavoured  to 
make  my  life  easy  by  living  according  to  reason,  and  that 
my  opinion  of  love  was  either  that  it  made  people  very 
miserable  or  very  happy.  He  said  it  made  him  miserable. 
"That,  I  suppose,  my  lord,"  said  I,  "proceeds  from 
yourself.  Perhaps  you  place  it  on  a  wrong  foundation.''1 

53 


MRS.  DELANY 

He  looked  confounded,  I  thought,  turned  the  discourse, 
and  went  away  immediately  after.  I  must  confess  I  could 
not  behave  myself  with  indifference,  and  I  am  sure  he 
must  perceive  that  what  I  had  said  affected  me.  I  have 
been  in  no  public  place  since,  as  I  shall  not  care  to  meet 
him.1 

To  return  to  the  autobiographical  narrative.  'The 
vexation  of  mind  I  had  laboured  under  for  some  time,' 
continues  the  writer, '  affected  me  to  so  great  a  degree  that 
I  fell  ill  of  a  fever  the  very  day  that  Herminius  made  me 
that  extraordinary  visit.  I  was  for  some  days  in  a  great 
deal  of  danger.  During  my  long  confinement,  he  never 
once  inquired  after  me.  Before  I  was  well  my  aunt  died, 
whose  death  was  a  most  sensible  affliction  to  me.  Sir 
John  Stanley,  whose  tender  friendship  I  must  always 
acknowledge,  seemed  to  double  his  regard  for  me  on  our 
mutual  loss,  and  I  endeavoured  to  pay  him  that  respect 
and  gratitude  so  justly  his  due.  As  soon  as  I  was  able  to 
go  abroad  I  went  with  him  to  his  villa,  Northend ;  but 
that  so  severely  renewed  my  trouble,  or  rather  added  to 
it,  that  I  was  not  able  to  bear  it.  I  then  proposed  to 
a  dear  friend  of  mine,  Silvia  [Mrs.  Donnellan],  to  take  a 
lodging  at  Richmond,  the  pleasantest  village  within  ten 
miles  of  London. 

'She  readily  consented:  we  joined  at  the  expense,  and 
our  situation  at  Richmond  was  as  pleasant  as  it  could  be. 
Her  good  sense,  her  peculiar  agreeable  talent  for  con- 
versation, our  variety  of  works — reading,  going  on  the 
water,  seeing  all  the  fine  places  in  the  neighbourhood — 
gave  me  a  new  turn  of  thinking,  shook  off  the  gloom,  and 
restored  me  to  health.  But  as  my  spirits  had  not  quite 
recovered  their  usual  vivacity,  I  readily  complied  with  a 
proposal  she  made  in  her  turn  of  going  with  her  to  Ireland 
54 


MRS.  DELANY 

to  see  her  friends — her  sister  being  settled  there  in  a  very 
splendid  and  agreeable  way.  I  had  heard  of  Herminius's 
engagement,  and  almost  as  soon  of  his  marriage.  As  his 
behaviour  had  given  me  some  disquiet,  I  thought  it  best 
to  avoid  meeting  him  for  some  time;  but  a  too  great 
retirement  from  public  places  would  have  looked  remark- 
able, which  determined  me  to  go  to  Ireland  with  my 
friend  as  soon  as  it  was  convenient  for  her  to  go,  but  the 
real  reason  of'  my  going  was  entirely  locked  within  my 
breast? 

The  letters  to  Anne  quickly  recover  their  former  cheer- 
ful and  lively  tone.  Deeply  affected  as  she  had  been  by 
the  cruel  and  heartless  manner  in  which  she  had  been 
treated,  Mary  determined  to  overcome  her  attachment  to 
the  man  who  had  trifled  with  her  feelings  as  soon  as  she 
was  convinced  that  he  was  unworthy.  In  July  of  the 
same  year,  1730,  Lord  Baltimore,  whose  affairs  were  said 
to  be  much  involved,  married  Mary,  the  daughter  of  Sir 
Theodore  Janssen,  a  rich  merchant.  Perhaps,  after  all, 
Mrs.  Pendarves  was  fortunate  in  escaping  from  a  man 
whom  George  n.  described  as  '  my  Lord  Baltimore,  who 
thinks  he  understands  everything,  and  understands  nothing, 
who  wants  to  be  well  with  both  courts,  and  is  well  at 
neither ;  and,  entre  nous,  is  a  little  mad.' 

In  the  letters  written  between  the  final  parting  with 
Lord  Baltimore  and  the  start  for  Ireland  in  September 
1730,  we  hear  much  less  than  usual  of  operas,  dances,  and 
other  festivities ;  but  there  are  one  or  two  interesting 
allusions  to  John  Wesley,  to  Hogarth  the  painter, 
and  to  the  literature  with  which  Mrs.  Pendarves  was 
endeavouring  to  distract  her  mind.  In  one  letter  she 
explains  her  use  of '  hard  terms '  by  the  fact  that  she  has 
lately  conversed,  by  the  help  of  the  inimitable  Fontenelle, 

55 


MRS.  DELANY 

with  the  planets.  'Nothing,1  she  declares,  'ever  was  so 
delightfully  entertaining,  as  well  as  instructive,  as  the 
Plurality  of  Worlds.  What  a  charming  place  is  the 
moon  !  But  although  I  have  formed  a  very  advantageous 
idea  of  that  planet,  I  shall  not  envy  its  inhabitants  when 
I  am  with  my  own  star — that  presides  over  all  my  actions 
and  influences  me  to  virtue.1 

A  letter,  or  rather  a  sermon  in  letter  form,  from  John 
Wesley  to  Mrs.  Granville  is  included  in  the  collection. 
Wesley  at  this  time  was  only  eight-and-twenty,  and  was 
not  to  begin  his  field-preaching  until  about  seven  years 
later;  but  he  had  already  adopted  the  peculiar  phraseology 
of  Methodism,  and  certainly  was  not  averse  from  preaching 
on  paper.  For  a  period  of  four  years  he  had  corresponded 
with  Mrs.  Pendarves  and  Anne  Granville  under  the  name 
.-••of  Cyrus,  Mary's  pseudonym  being  Aspasia  and  Anne's 
Selina.  The  letters  seem  to  be  merely  the  medium  for 
a  mild  kind  of  religious  flirtation,  and  it  is  hard  indeed 
to  believe  that  those  signed  Aspasia  really  were  written  by 
the  sprightly  Mrs.  Pendarves,  though  no  doubt  she  was 
versatile  enough  to  be  able  to  suit  her  own  style  to  that 
of  her  correspondent.  On  one  occasion  she  asks  Cyrus 
whether  he  considers  she  would  be  wrong  to  go  to  a 
concert  of  music  on  a  Sunday  evening.  He  replies,  like 
an  augur  of  old,  '  To  judge  whether  any  action  be  lawful 
on  the  Sabbath  or  no,  we  are  to  consider  whether  it 
advances  the  end  for  which  the  Sabbath  was  ordained. 
What  therefore  tends  to  advance  this  end  is  lawful  on 
this  day.  What  does  not  tend  to  advance  this  end  is 
not  lawful  on  this  day.1 

Later,  he  complains  that  he  has  been  accused  of  being 
too  strict,  and  of  laying  burdens  on  himself  and  others 
that  are  too  heavy  to  be  borne.     Aspasia  replies :  '  The 
56 


MRS.  DELANY 

imputation  thrown  on  you  is  a  most  extraordinary 
one.  But  such  is  the  temper  of  the  world,  when  you 
have  no  vice  to  feed  their  spleen  with,  they  will  condemn 
the  highest  virtue.  O  Cyrus,  how  noble  a  defence  you 
make !  and  how  you  are  adorned  with  the  beauty  of 
holiness  !  How  ardently  do  I  wish  to  be  as  resigned  and 
humble  as  yourself ! '  After  this  it  is  small  wonder  that 
there  was  more  of  sentiment  than  of  religion  in  some 
of  Cyrus's  effusions,  as,  for  instance,  when  he  exclaims : 
'  Should  one  who  was  as  my  own  soul  be  torn  from  me, 
it  would  be  best  for  me.  Surely  if  you  were  called  first, 
mine  eyes  ought  not  to  overflow  because  all  tears  were 
wiped  away  from  yours !  But  I  much  doubt  whether 
self-love  would  not  be  found  too  strong  for  a  friendship 
which  even  now  I  find  to  be  less  disinterested  than  I 
hitherto  imagined.  .  .  .  Tell  me,  Aspasia — tell  me,  Selina 
— if  it  be  a  fault  that  my  heart  burns  within  me  when  I 
reflect  on  the  many  marks  of  favour  you  have  already 
shown  ? ' 

John   Wesley's   biographer,    Mr.   Tyerman,   evidently 
thinks  that  if  Mrs.  Pendarves  had  not  gone  to  Ireland 
just  at  this  time  she  might  have  married  the  leader  of 
Methodism  instead  of  becoming  the  wife  of  the  Dean  of 
Down.     But  the  bustle  of  the  journey  and  the  complete 
change  of  scene  put  poor  Cyrus  out  of  her  head.     She 
~ tells  'Selina1  that  she  has  really  no  time  to  write  to  him, 
,  and  only  after  all  intercourse  has  ceased  reproaches  herself 
somewhat  perfunctorily  for  having  neglected  'so  extra- 
ordinary a  correspondent.' 

Another  Mr.  Wesley  often  alluded  to  at  this  time  was 

Richard  Colley,  who,  having  succeeded  in   1728  to  the. 

family  estates,  assumed  the  surname  and  arms  of  Wesley. 

,   He   was   created   Baron    Mornington    in    1746,  and   his 

57 


MRS.  DELANY 

eldest  son,  Garrett,  Mrs.  Delany's  godson,  who  was  created 
Viscount  Wellesley  of  Dangan,  and  Earl  of  Mornington, 
was  the  father  of  the  great  Duke  of  Wellington. 

'  Last  Friday,1  writes  Mrs.  Pendarves,  in  the  summer  of 
1731,  'I  dined  at  Mr.  Wesley's.  After  dinner  I  came 
home  to  settle  accounts  and  order  the  packing  of  my  box ; 
when  that  was  done  I  returned  to  the  company.  The 
young  men,  upon  my  going  away,  thought  the  company 
was  dispersed,  and  walked  off,  but  we  were  very  merry 
without  them.  Mr.  Percival,  you  know,  can  be  very 
entertaining,  and  so  can  Mr.  Wesley.  We  romped  and 
played  at  little  plays  with  the  children  till  supper-time. 
I  never  met  with  so  delightful  a  man  as  my  hero  Mr. 
Wesley — so  much  goodness,  friendliness,  and  cheerfulness 
joined.  Miss  Wesley  is  the  finest  girl  I  ever  saw ;  you 
would  have  been  charmed  had  you  seen  her  mimic  the 
dancing  of  twenty  people,  I  believe.1* 

In  the  same  letter  she  writes :  '  I  am  grown  passionately 
fond  of  Hogarth's  painting,  there  is  more  sense  in  it  than  any 
I  have  seen.  I  believe  I  wrote  you  word  that  Mr.  Wesley's 
family  are  drawn  by  him,  and  Mrs.  Donnellan  with  them. 
I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  paint  the  greater 
part  of  it.  He  has  altered  his  manner  of  painting  since 
you  saw  his  pictures ;  he  finishes  more  a  good  deal. 
I  have  released  Lady  Sunderland  from  her  promise  of 
giving  me  her  picture  by  Zincke,  to  have  it  done  by 
Hogarth.  I  think  he  takes  a  much  greater  likeness, 
and  that  is  what  I  shall  value  my  friend's  picture  for, 
more  than  the  excellence  of  the  painting.  Hogarth  has 
promised  to  give  me  some  instructions  about  drawing 
that  will  be  of  great  use — some  rules  of  his  own  that  he 
says  will  improve  me  more  in  a  day  than  a  year's  learning 
in  the  common  way.' 
58 


MRS.  DELANY 

Although  one  lover  had  proved  faithless,  we  hear  of 
others  no  less  eligible  who  are  more  in  earnest.  In  May 
1731,  Mary  writes  to  her  sister :  '  Your  account  of  Puzzle 
[the  nickname  of  a  rejected  lover]  savours  of  madness. 
I  am  glad  his  fortune  is  so  good;  'tis  a  very  handsome 
maintenance  for  a  single  man.  I  think  he  has  a  good 
deal  of  merit,  and  I  protest  solemnly  I  am  extremely 
sony  to  give  him  any  pain ;  and  had  I  any  inclination  to 
marry,  and  a  fortune  double  what  I  have,  I  would  prefer 
him  to  any  man  I  know ;  but  to  let  you  know  seriously 
that  money  without  worth  cannot  tempt  me,  I  have 
refused  my  Lord  Tyrconnel.  Lady  Carteret  asked  me 
the  other  day  if  I  would  give  her  leave  to  proceed  in  it, 
that  she  thought  I  should  be  very  blameworthy  to  refuse 
so  vast  a  fortune,  a  title,  and  a  good-natured  man.  All 
that,  I  told  her,  was  no  temptation  to  me ;  he  had  the 
character,  very  j  ustly,  of  being  silly,  and  I  would  not  tie 
myself  to  such  a  companion  for  an  empire.  She  said 
I  was  in  the  wrong.  .  .  . 

'You  have  reason  to  dread  the  condition  of  an  old 
maiden.  Don't  run  the  hazard  of  it;  depend  upon  it 
all  your  resolutions  will  fail  you  when  you  come  to  that 
peevish  condition ;  therefore,  secure  yourself.  I  will  give 
you  a  helping  hand  if  in  my  power.1 

A  few  weeks  later  Mrs.  Pendarves  had  rather  a  curious 
encounter  with  her  would-be  suitor.  'I  mentioned  my 
dining  on  Monday  last  at  Mrs.  Percival's,'  she  writes. 
'  There  was  Capel  Moore  and  Lady  Mary,  his  wife.  She 
seems  to  be  a  good  sort  of  woman,  without  any  airs  or 
liveliness ;  he  was  a  little  cogitabund  or  grave  (for  to  tell 
you  the  truth  I  do  not  well  understand  the  meaning  of 
that  hard  word)  till  after  dinner.  He  asked  after  you. 
I  reproached  him  with  not  meeting  you,  and  making  you 

59 


MRS.  DELANY 

laugh,  as  you  appointed  him  to  do  at  the  ridotto.  After 
drinking  tea  Capel  proposed  going  on  the  water.  We 
accepted  the  offer,  took  up  Mr.  Wesley  in  our  way,  drove 
to  Whitehall  Stairs,  took  the  boat  we  liked  best,  and  rowed 
away  very  pleasantly — the  water  smooth,  the  sky  serene, 
the  company  good-humoured.  Philomel  [another  name 
for  Mrs.  Donnellan]  was  soon  called  upon  to  make  use  of 
her  sweet  pipe,  which  she  did.  A  boat  with  two  ladies 
and  one  gentleman  was  immediately  attracted,  and  pursued 
us.  As  soon  as  they  were  near  enough  for  us  to  see 
their  faces,  who  should  be  beheld  but  the  Duchess  of 
Ancaster,  an  old  woman  with  her,  and  my  Lord  Tyrconnel. 
I  was  not  a  little  diverted  at  this  interview,  but  much 
more  so  when  he  opened  his  wise  mouth,  and  told  Mrs. 
Donnellan  hers  was  the  finest  water  language  he  ever 
heard,  nay,  the  finest  language  he  had  ever  heard  by 
land  or  water,  and  many  more  polite  speeches.  They 
were  in  an  open  boat,  ours  was  covered.  It  would  have 
diverted  you  to  see  how  the  wretch  peeped  to  look  at 
us,  which  was  no  easy  matter.  My  companion's  voice 
charmed  them  so  much  that  they  did  not  quit  us  till 
she  had  sung  several  songs.  Capel  asked  the  duchess 
to  sing,  which  she,  in  a  droll  way,  did  very  readily.  At 
last  they  agreed  to  sing  a  duetto  out  of  the  Beggars' 
Opera,  but  such  caterwauling  was  never  heard,  and  we 
all  laughed. 

*  As  we  were  returning  home,  and  had  parted  with  our 
gallant  company,  they  discovered  water  in  the  bottom  of 
the  boat ;  my  feet  were  soaked  quite  through  up  to  my 
ankles,  and  my  petticoats  above  half  a  yard  sopped  in 
water.  We  began  to  think  it  was  no  joke,  and  ordered 
the  boatman  to  put  in  at  the  first  stair.  We  landed  at 
a  little  island,  where  was  one  solitary  house ;  we  knocked 
60 


MRS.  DELANY 

at  the  door,  and  a  clever-shaped  young  woman,  dressed  in 
a  white  calico  nightgown,  with  some  difficulty  admitted 
us.  We  endeavoured  to  get  another  boat,  none  could  be 
had,  so  they  mended  up  our  crazy  vessel  and  we  ventured. 
We  arrived  safe  and  sound  at  Whitehall  Stairs  at  eleven 
o'  the  clock.' 

Mrs.  Pendarves's  project  of  a  visit  to  Dublin,  where  she 
and  Mrs.  Donnellan  were  invited  to  stay  with  the  latter's 
sister,  Mrs.  Clayton,  wife  of  the  Bishop  of  Killal^,  was  a 
great  undertaking  in  those  days,  and  met  with  some 
opposition  from  her  family,  but  she  held  to  her  intention, 
and  in  July  1731  we  find  her  writing:  'I  pick  up  by 
degrees  the  things  I  shall  want  for  my  Irish  expedition. 
I  have  bought  a  gown  and  petticoat ;  'tis  a  very  fine  blue 
satin,  sprigged  all  over  with  white,  and  the  petticoat 
facings  and  endings  broidered  in  the  manner  of  a 
trimming  wove  in  the  silk.  This  suit  of  clothes  cost 
me  sixteen  pounds;  and  yesterday  I  bought  a  pink 
damask  for  seven  shillings  a  yard,  the  prettiest  colour 
I  have  ever  seen  for  a  nightgown.' 

In  September  the  party  set  out,  and  on  the  10th  Mary 
writes  from  Chester :  '  Here  we  are  weatherbound  ;  what 
can  I  do  so  agreeable  as  write  to  my  dearest  sister. 
The  weather  hitherto  has  been  contrary  to  us,  and  we 
are  so  cautious  that  we  will  not  venture  till  it  is  more 
settled.  We  have  several  of  our  acquaintance  here 
waiting  for  a  passage  also.  Mr.  Dubourg  and  his 
wife,  with  our  charming  Philomel,  whose  conversa- 
tion, you  know,  is  not  inferior  to  her  voice.  Our 
spiritual  guide  takes  abundance  of  care  of  us,  and  by 
way  of  variety  we  have  a  pretty  butterfly  man  now  and 
then.  _//.  .  We  amuse  ourselves  with  working,  reading, 
and  walking,  and  in  the  evening  play  pool  or  picket. 

61 


MRS.  DELANY 

We  have  secured  places  in  the  Pretty  Betty.  The  best 
cabin  Mrs.  Donnellan  and  I  have  taken,  and  are  to  pay 
five  guineas/ 

The  letter  describing  the  voyage  has  apparently  been 
lost,  but  on  September  22nd,  Mrs.  Pendarves  writes 
from  Dublin:  'I  hope  by  this  time  my  dearest  sister 
has  no  more  fears  for  me.  My  mama  has  received  my 
letter  with  an  account  of  my  voyage.  I  must  do  justice 
to  the  good  people  I  am  living  with,  and  give  you  a 
notion  of  our  ways.  The  Bishop  of  Killala  and  his  lady, 
you  know,  are  agreeable,  and  never  so  much  so  as  in  their 
own  house,  which  is  indeed  magnifique,  and  they  have 
a  heart  answerable  to  their  fortune.  They  received  me 
with  real  joy,  which  does  not  seem  to  allay  by  our  being 
longer  together.  The  first  day  we  came  we  were  denied  to 
all  but  particular  friends.  You  were  much  inquired  after, 
and  heartily  wished  for.  Alas!  did  I  not  join  in  that  wish? 
Sunday  we  went  to  church,  and  saw  all  company  that 
came,  which  was  numerous,  for  Mrs.  Clayton  is  extremely 
liked,  and  visited  by  everybody.  Yesterday  we  were  at 
the  same  sport,  and  this  morning  we  are  to  go  to  the 
Duchess  of  Dorset's  to  pay  our  court.  So  much  for  our 
company,  now  for  our  habitation.  Stephen's  Green  is 
the  name  of  the  square  where  this  house  stands ;  the 
front  of  it  is  like  Devonshire  House.  The  apartments 
are  handsome,  and  furnished  with  gold-coloured  damask, 
virtues,  busts  and  pictures  that  the  bishop  brought 
with  him  from  Italy.  A  universal  cheerfulness  reigns  in 
the  house.  They  keep  a  very  handsome  table,  six  dishes 
of  meat  at  dinner,  and  six  plates  at  supper.1 

Mrs.  Pendarves  went  to  Ireland,  intending  to  stay  six 
months,  and  ended  by  staying  eighteen.  She  seems 
thoroughly  to  have  appreciated  the  easy  hospitality  and 
62 


MRS.  DELANY 

informal  gaiety  of  Dublin  society,  and  she  made  many 
new  friends,  among  them  Dean  Swift,  with  whom  she 
kept  up  a  correspondence.  It  was  on  this  visit  that  she 
first  learnt  to  know  and  respect  Dr.  Delany,  whom  she 
afterwards  married.  '  The  character  he  bore  in  the  world,1 
she  says  in  her  autobiography,  '  made  me  wish  to  be 
acquainted  with  him.  He  was  then  married,  lived  in  a 
very  agreeable  manner,  and  reserved  one  day  in  the  week 
for  his  particular  friends,  among  whom  were  those  of  the 
best  learning  and  genius  in  the  kingdom.  I  thought 
myself  honoured  by  being  admitted  to  such  a  set,  and 
Silvia  and  I  never  failed  of  making  use  of  a  privilege  so 
agreeable  to  both  of  us.  By  this  means  I  grew  intimate 
with  Dessario  [Dr.  Delany],  and  had  an  opportunity  of 
observing  his  many  excellent  qualities.  His  wit  and 
learning  were  to  me  his  meanest  praise ;  the  excellence  of 
his  heart,  his  humanity,  benevolence,  charity,  and  gener- 
osity, his  tenderness,  affection,  and  friendly  zeal  gave  me 
a  higher  opinion  of  him  than  any  other  man  I  had  ever 
conversed  with,  and  made  me  take  every  opportunity 
of  conversing  and  corresponding  with  one  from  whom 
I  expected  so  much  improvement/ 

A  few  extracts  from  the  letters  written  from  Ireland 
will  give  some  idea  of  the  social  life  in  Dublin  and  the 
provinces  at  that  period  : 

'DUBLIN,  Sept.  26,  1731. 

'Last  Tuesday  morning  I  was  at  the  Castle,  and  we 
went  again  in  the  evening.  The  apartment  consists  of 
three  rooms,  not  altogether  so  large  as  those  at  St. 
James's,  but  of  a  very  tolerable  size.  In  the  furthest 
room  there  is  placed  a  basset  table,  at  which  the  Duchess 
of  Dorset  sits  down  when  she  has  received  and  made  her 
compliments  to  the  company.  It  is  very  seldom  any 

63 


MRS.  DELANY 

ladies  sit  down  to  basset,  but  quadrille  parties  are  made 
in  the  other  rooms,  and  such  idle  ones  as  I  saunter  up 
and  down,  or  pick  up  some  acquaintance  to  chat  with, 
just  the  same  as  at  St.  Jameses.  There  were  several  very 
pretty  women :  the  top  beauty  is  Lady  Ross,  a  sweet, 
agreeable  creature.  .  .  .  As  for  the  generality  of  people 
that  I  meet  here,  they  are  much  the  same  as  in  England 
— a  mixture  of  good  and  bad.  There  is  a  heartiness 
among  them  that  is  more  like  Cornwall  than  any  I  have 
known,  and  great  sociableness.' 

'  Oct.  4th. 

'The  chief  entertainment  of  this  week  was  the  review 
on  Friday.  The  park,  justly  called  the  Phoenix  Park, 
was  the  place  of  show.  One  regiment  of  horse  and  three 
of  foot,  who  all  performed  their  parts  well.  The  Duchess 
of  Dorset  was  there  in  great  state,  and  all  the  beau  monde 
of  Dublin.  But  I  must  not  pass  over  in  silence  the 
beauties  of  the  park,  which  is  a  very  large  piece  of 
ground,  very  fine  turf,  agreeable  prospects,  and  a  delight- 
ful wood  ;  indeed,  I  never  saw  a  spot  of  ground  more  to 
my  taste — it  is  far  beyond  St.  James's  or  Hyde  Park. 
Nobody's  equipage  outlooked  ours  except  my  Lord 
Lieutenant's,  but  in  every  respect  I  must  say  Mrs.  Clayton 
outshines  her  neighbours,  not  that  that  is  easily  done 
here,  for  people  understand  not  only  living  well  but 
easily.' 

'  October  9th. 

'I  must  say  the  environs  of  Dublin  are  delightful. 
The  town  is  bad  enough,  narrow  streets  and  dirty-lookirlg 
houses,  but  some  good  ones  scattered  about;  and,  as  for 
St.  Stephen's  Green,  I  think  it  may  be  preferred  justly  to 
any  square  in  London,  and  it  is  a  great  deal  larger  than 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  Yesterday,  being  the  anniversary 
64 


MRS.  DELANY 

of  the  king's  coronation,  we,  like  loyal  subjects,  went  to 
the  Castle.  There  was  a  ball,  very  decently  ordered,  and 
French  dances  in  abundance.  I  danced  three  country 
dances  with  Mr.  Usher  in  a  vast  crowd ;  after  that  we 
were  summoned  to  supper,  where  everything  was  prepared 
with  great  magnificence.  I  have  just  begun  an  acquaint- 
ance among  the  wits — Mrs.  Grierson,  Mrs.  Sycon,  and 
Mrs.  Pilkington;  the  latter  is  a  friend  of  Dean  Swift's, 
and  I  hope  among  them  I  shall  be  able  to  pick  up  some 
entertainment  for  you.' 

Of  the  three  ladies  here  mentioned,  the  first,  Mrs. 
Grierson,  was  allowed  to  be  an  excellent  scholar,  not  only 
in  Greek  and  Roman  literature,  but  also  in  history, 
divinity,  philosophy,  and  mathematics.  She  edited 
editions  of  Tacitus  and  Terence,  and  wrote  several 
English  poems  that  were  much  admired  in  their  day. 
Mrs.  Pilkington  seems  to  have  been  a  wit  rather  than 
a  scholar.  She  was  a  proUgee  of  Swift's,  who  gave  her 
husband  letters  of  introduction  to  Pope,  Bolingbroke,  and 
others  of  his  most  distinguished  London  friends.  But  the 
Pilkington  pair  turned  out  ill,  and  brought  little  credit 
upon  their  patron.  Mrs.  Sycon  was  the  original  of  the 
*  Psyche,'  to  whom  Swift  wrote  the  verses  beginning : 

'  At  two  afternoon,  for  our  Psyche  inquire, 
Her  tea-kettle 's  on,  and  her  smock 's  at  the  fire  : 
So  loitering,  so  active,  so  busy,  so  idle, 
Which  has  she  most  need  of,  a  spur  or  a  bridle  ? ' 

Perhaps  this  acquaintance  with  the  learned  ladies  is 
responsible  for  the  somewhat  acrid  tone  of  the  following 
extract:  'Would  it  were  so,  that  I  went  ravaging  and 
slaying  all  odious  men,  as  that  would  go  near  to  clear 
the  world  of  that  sort  of  animal ;  you  know  I  never  had 
E  65 


MRS.  DELANY 

a  good  opinion  of  them,  and  every  day  my  dislike 
strengthens  ;  some  few  I  will  except,  but  very  few,  they 
have  so  despicable  an  opinion  of  women,  and  treat  them 
by  their  words  and  acts  so  ungenerously  and  inhumanly. 
By  my  manner  of  inveighing,  anybody  less  acquainted 
with  me  than  yourself  would  imagine  I  had  very  lately 
received  some  very  ill  usage.  No !  'tis  my  general 
observation  on  conversing  with  them :  the  minutest 
indiscretion  in  a  woman  (though  occasioned  by  them- 
selves) never  fails  of  being  enlarged  into  a  notorious 
crime ;  but  men  are  to  sin  on  without  limitation  or 
blame  ;  a  hard  case, — not  the  restraint  we  are  under,  for 
that  I  extremely  approve  of,  but  the  unreasonable  licence 
tolerated  in  the  men.' 

Mrs.  Pendarves  gives  an  amusing  description  of  one  of 
her  partners  at  a  ball,  a  gentleman  who  would  certainly 
have  delighted  the  heart  of  Thackeray.  After  mentioning 
three  or  four  of  the  company,  she  proceeds :  '  The  rest  of 
the  men  are  not  worth  naming,  poor,  dull  wretches,  very 
ill-chosen,  I  am  sure.  I  wanted  my  good  partner,  Mr. 
Usher ;  in  his  stead  I  had  Captain  Folliot,  a  man  six  foot 
odd  inches  high,  black,  awkward,  romping,  and  roaring. 
I  thought  he  would  have  shook  my  arms  off  and  crushed 
my  toes  to  atoms ;  every  moment  he  did  something 
awkward,  and  as  often  asked  "  my  ladyship's  pardon."  In 
the  midst  of  his  furious  dancing,  when  he  was  throwing 
his  arms  about  him  outrageously,  snap  went  something 
that  we  all  thought  had  been  the  main  bone  of  his  leg, 
but  it  proved  only  a  bone  of  his  toe.  Notwithstanding 
which  he  fought  upon  his  stumps,  and  would  not  spare  me 
one  dance ;  we  began  pegging  it  at  eight,  and  continued 
our  sport  till  one  without  ceasing.' 

66 


MRS.  DELANY 

'March  7th,  1732. 

'  Tis  fit  in  return  for  the  account  you  give  me  of  your 
amusements  that  I  let  you  know  what  we  do  here.  Why, 
on  the  first  of  March  we  went  to  Court  in  the  morning, 
heard  a  song  of  Dubourg's,  and  after  that  compliment 
was  over  refreshed  ourselves  by  dinner,  and  went  again  at 
seven.  The  ball  was  in  the  old  beef-eaters1  hall,  a  room 
that  holds  seven  hundred  people  seated;  it  was  well  it 
did,  for  never  did  I  behold  a  greater  crowd.  At  eleven 
the  minuets  were  finished,  and  the  duchess  went  to  the 
basset  table.  After  an  hour's  playing  the  duke,  duchess, 
and  nobility  marched  into  the  supper  room,  which  was 
the  council  chamber.  In  the  midst  of  the  room  was 
placed  a  holly-tree,  illuminated  by  an  hundred  wax 
tapers  ;  round  it  was  placed  all  sorts  of  meats,  fruit,  and 
sweetmeats.  Servants  waited  next,  and  were  encompassed 
round  by  a  table,  to  which  the  company  came  by  turns  to 
take  what  they  wanted.  When  the  doors  were  first 
opened,  the  hurly-burly  is  not  to  be  described ;  squealing, 
shrieking,  all  sorts  of  noises,  some  ladies  lost  their  lappets, 
others  were  trod  upon.  Poor  Lady  Santry  almost  lost 
her  breath  in  the  struggle,  and  fanned  herself  for  two 
hours  before  she  could  recover  herself  enough  to  know  if 
she  were  alive  or  dead.  I  and  my  company  were  more 
discreet  than  to  go  with  the  torrent :  we  staid  till  people 
had  satisfied  their  curiosity  and  hunger,  and  then  took  a 
quiet  view  of  \hejamous  tree,  which  occasioned  more  rout 
than  it  was  worth.1 

In  May  the  bishop's  household  removed  to  Killala 
for  the  summer,  and  the  letters  describe  the  journey 
thither,  and  the  mode  of  life  in  rural  Ireland.  The  first 
stopping-place  was  Dangan,  distant  twenty  miles  from 

67 


MRS.  DELANY 

Dublin,  the  house  of  Mr.  Wesley,  and  from  thence  Mrs. 
Pendarves  writes : — 

'May  27th,  1732. 

'We  got  to  our  journey's  end  about  eight  o'clock,  and 
were  received  with  a  hearty  welcome.  The  house  is  very 
large,  handsome,  and  convenient ;  the  situation  is  not 
pleasant,  the  country  being  flat.  Mr.  Wesley  is  making 
great  improvements  of  planting  trees  and  making  canals. 
You  know  the  good  people  so  well  that  belong  to  this 
place  that  there  is  no  occasion  to  say  how  agreeable  they 
make  their  house.  The  sweet  little  girls  remember  you 
and  all  your  pretty  ways.  We  live  magnificently,  and  at 
the  same  time  without  ceremony.  There  is  a  charming 
large  hall  with  an  organ  and  harpsichord,  where  all  the 
company  meet  when  they  have  a  mind  to  be  together, 
and  where  music,  draughts,  dancing,  shuttlecock,  and 
prayers  take  their  turn.  Our  hours  for  eating  are  ten, 
three,  and  ten  again.  I  hope  my  dear  sister  will  endeavour 
to  make  herself  and  my  mama  easy  at  my  staying  so 
much  longer  in  Ireland,  for  I  never  had  my  health  better 
in  my  life.  Sir  John  Stanley  has  been  told  I  am  going 
to  be  married :  I  easily  guessed  the  party  though  he  did 
not  name  him.  It  is  very  likely  the  same  report  may 
meet  your  ears,  therefore  I  give  you  notice  that  it  is 
altogether  groundless.1 

The  next  stopping-place  seems  to  have  been  Newton  Gore, 
where  the  whole  party  went  fishing,  and  had  a  picnic  meal 
under  the  trees.  '  We  staid  on  the  water  till  eight,1  writes 
Mary,  '  then  went  to  a  cabin,  which  is  such  a  thing  as  this 
thatched  [a  sketch  is  inserted].  It  belongs  to  a  gentleman 
of  fifteen  hundred  pounds  a  year,  who  spends  most  of  his 
time  and  fortune  in  this  place.  The  situation  is  pretty, 
68 


MRS.  DELANY 

but  the  house  is  worse  than  I  have  represented.  He 
keeps  a  man-cook,  and  has  given  entertainments  of  twenty 
dishes  of  meat !  The  people  of  this  country  don't  seem 
solicitous  of  having  good  dwellings,  or  more  furniture 
than  is  absolutely  necessary — hardly  so  much — but  they 
make  it  up  in  eating  and  drinking.  I  have  not  seen  less 
than  fourteen  dishes  of  meat  for  dinner,  and  seven  for 
supper  during  my  peregrinations ;  and  they  not  only  treat 
us  at  their  houses  magnificently,  but,  if  we  are  to  go  to 
an  inn,  they  provide  us  with  a  basket  crammed  with  good 
things.  No  people  can  be  more  hospitable  and  obliging, 
and  there  is  not  only  great  abundance,  but  great  order 
and  neatness.  .  .  .  The  country  of  Ireland  has  no  fault 
but  want  of  inhabitants  to  cultivate  it.  The  mountains 
and  noble  lochs  make  a  fine  variety,  but  they  cut  down 
all  their  woods  instead  of  preserving  them.  The  roads 
are  much  better  in  Ireland  than  in  England,  mostly 
causeways,  a  little  jumbling,  but  very  safe.  .  .  .  The 
poverty  of  the  people  as  I  have  passed  through  the 
country  has  made  my  heart  ache.  I  never  saw  greater 
appearance  of  misery  :  they  live  in  great  extremes,  either 
profusely  or  wretchedly.' 

By  June  21st  the  party  has  arrived  at  Killala,  '  a  very 
pretty  spot  of  ground;  the  house  old  and  indifferent 
enough  :  the  sea  so  near  us  that  we  can  see  it  out  of  our 
windows ;  the  garden,  which  is  laid  out  entirely  for  our 
use,  is  pretty,  with  a  great  many  shady  walks  and  forest 
trees.  .  .  .  Last  Sunday  the  bishop  gave  us  a  very  good 
sermon.  Perhaps  you  think  our  cathedral  a  vulgar  one, 
and  that  we  have  an  organ  and  choir ;  no,  we  have  no 
such  popish  doings — a  good  parish  minister  and  bawling 
of  psalms  is  our  method  of  proceeding.  The  church  is 
neat,  but  you  would  not  dream  it  was  a  cathedral.  .  .  . 

6? 


MRS.  DELANY 

We  rise  at  eight,  meet  together  at  breakfast  at  ten,  after 
that  sit  down  to  work.  Phil  holds  forth.  "  Zaide  "  enter- 
tains us  at  present  in  French  (Histoire  Espagnole  by  M. 
de  Segrais),  1tis  a  pretty  romance.  How  I  love  Belasine, 
Alphonzo's  mistress,  and  pity  him,  though  his  folly 
wrought  his  destruction.  We  dine  at  three,  set  to  work 
again  between  five  and  six,  walk  out  at  eight,  and  come 
home  time  enough  to  sit  down  to  supper  by  ten.  Very 
pretty  chat  goes  round  till  eleven,  then  prayers,  and  so 
to  bed."1 

'  KILLALA,  August  13th. 

'  The  fair  of  Killala  has  added  largely  to  our  library — 
Paresmus  and  Parismenos  (by  Thomas  Creed),  the  Seven 
Champions,  Valentine  and  Orson,  and  various  other  delect- 
able histories.  .  .  .  We  had  excellent  sport  at  the  fair. 
About  eleven  o'clock  Mrs.  Clayton,  well  attended,  in  her 
coach  drawn  by  six  flouncing  Flanders  mares,  went  on  the 
strand.  Six  heats  the  first  race;  the  second  gave  us 
much  more  sport ;  five  horses  put  in,  the  last  horse  to 
win,  and  every  man  rode  his  neighbour's  horse,  without 
saddle,  whip,  or  spur.  Such  holloing,  kicking  of  legs, 
sprawling  of  arms  could  not  be  seen  without  laughing 
immoderately.  In  the  afternoon  chairs  were  placed  before 
the  house,  where  we  all  took  our  places  in  great  state,  all 
attired  in  our  best  apparel ;  then  dancing,  singing, 
grinning,  accompanied  with  an  excellent  bagpipe,  the 
whole  concluded  with  a  ball,  bonfire,  and  illumination. 
Pray  does  your  bishop  promote  such  entertainments  at 
Gloster  as  ours  does  at  Killala  ? ' 


70 


CHAPTER  V 

(1732-1734) 

KILLALA  was  quitted  in  October,  and  a  leisurely  tour  was 
made  back  to  Dublin.  There  is  a  gap  of  two  months  in 
the  correspondence,  but  in  an  unpublished  letter,  dated 
January  13th,  1733,  occurs  an  allusion  to  Dr.  Delany  which 
is  curious  when  considered  by  the  light  of  after-events. 
'What  do  you  mean  by  Mr.  Clapton  and  false  fire?1 
demands  Mrs.  Pendarves.  'You  never  mentioned  him 
before  to  me.  What  was  he,  a  lover  of  yours  ?  I  fancy  not, 
for  you  seem  to  mention  his  being  departed  in  a  very  cool 

manner.     Mr.  Y has  more  sense  than  to  expect  more 

favour  from  me  than  he  has  already  found ;  I  have  no 
objection  to  his  acquaintance  or  friendship,  but  I  never 
can  or  will  go  further,  and  if  he  does  not  think  it  worth 
his  while  to  converse  with  me  on  that  footing  he  may  go 
hang  himself.  .  .  .  Upon  my  word  I  think  the  spirit  of 
gallantry  has  taken  its  residence  in  and  about  Gloster. 
The  order  of  the  stocking  or  hose,  though,  I  think  does 
not  sound  so  polite  as  the  order  of  the  garter.  Think  of 
some  prettier  name  to  give  it.  ...  Last  Sunday  I  went 
to  hear  Doctor  Delany  preach,  and  was  extremely  pleased 
with  him.  His  sermon  was  on  the  duties  of  wives  to 
husbands,  a  subject  of  no  great  use  to  me  at  present. 
He  has  an  easy,  pathetical  manner  of  preaching  that 
pleases  me  mightily.1 

71 


MRS.  DELANY 

About  the  same  time  occur  the  first  personal  allusions 
to  Swift,  with  whom  Mrs.  Pendarves  had  struck  up  a 
friendship,  or  more  accurately,  perhaps,  an  intellectual 
flirtation  such  as  the  great  man  loved.  On  January  24th, 
she  writes :  *  On  Tuesday  Phill  and  I  dined  at  Dr. 
Delany's;  there  we  met  Miss  Kelly,  Lord  Orrery,  the 
Dean  of  St.  Patrick's,  etc.  Swift  is  a  very  odd  companion 
(if  that  expression  is  not  too  familiar  for  so  great  a 
genius);  he  talks  a  great  deal,  and  does  not  require 
many  answers ;  he  has  infinite  spirits,  and  says  abundance 
of  good  things  in  his  common  way  of  discourse.  Miss 
Kelly's  beauty  and  good  humour  have  gained  an  entire  con- 
quest over  time,  and  I  come  in  only  a  little  by  the  by.1 

On  February  6th,  in  another  unpublished  letter  she 
continues :  '  I  have  done  some  very  pretty  things  since  I 
last  spoke  my  mind  to  you.  On  Wednesday  last  expired 
the  handsomest,  agreeablest,  best  ordered  assembly  that 
ever  delighted  the  heart  of  beau  or  belle.  It  made  its 
exit  with  great  honour,  and  was  attended  by  persons  of 
the  first  rank,  men  of  wit,  and  ladies  of  beauty.  Sighs 
and  lamentations  were  not  omitted,  and  I  believe  some 
tears  it  cost.  Like  other  things  of  value  its  worth  was 
not  known  till  it  breathed  its  last,  and  then  its  very 
enemies  confessed  it  was  the  most  perfect  thing  of  the 
kind,  and  Mrs.  Clayton  has  gained  great  honour  by  her 
behaviour  in  her  drawing-room,  which  was  as  proper  as 
could  be.  We  were  engaged  on  Thursday  to  go  to  Mrs. 
Palliser's,  a  lady  much  in  request  in  Dublin,  sister  to  the 
beauty,  Miss  Pennyfeather.  We  went  at  seven  o'clock. 
The  design  was  to  have  one  table  at  whist  and  another  of 
commerce,  but  the  young  people  (among  whom,  though 
unworthy,  was  placed  your  humble  servant)  thought 
dancing  a  more  lively  entertainment.  .  .  .  We  were  eight 
72 


MRS.  DELANY 

couple.  Sir  Thomas  Pendergast  and  I  began  the  ball. 
We  began  at  eight  o'clock,  and  danced  briskly  till  eleven, 
then  went  to  supper,  began  again  at  one,  and  ended  at 
three.  .  .  . 

'I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  we  dined  last  Thursday  at 
Doctor  Delany's,  where  we  met  the  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's. 
Miss  Kelly  was  there,  who  is  a  great  favourite  of  his; 
and  I  am  aiming  a  little  at  his  favour,  without  great 
hopes  of  success,  for  his  smiles  are  not  common.  We  are 
to  dine  again  at  Dr.  Delany's  on  Thursday  next,  which 
is  the  day  the  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's  always  spends  there ; 
my  Lord  Orrery  is  to  be  of  the  party.  .  .  .  On  Sunday 
we  had  a  violent  storm  of  wind,  but  were  obliged  to  go 
abroad  to  a  christening,  where  we  were  pretty  merry. 
The  Wesleys  were  there.  Have  you  not  read  the  poem 
on  Riches,  and  do  you  not  think  that  the  Man  of  Ross 
suits  Mr.  Wesley,  my  hero  ?  I  believe  that  you  that  do 
not  know  him  as  well  as  I  do  will  find  some  resemblance, 
but  I  that  have  been  in  the  way  of  hearing  of  all  his 
generous  actions  think  the  character  points  him  out. 
I  have  made  acquaintance  with  men  in  Ireland  that  I 
should  be  heartily  glad  to  improve  and  cultivate  a  friend- 
ship with  had  I  an  opportunity,  but  in  all  likelihood  we 
may  never  meet  again.  The  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's,  whose 
wit  you  are  well  read  in,  and  whose  conversation  is  enter- 
taining and  delightful.  Doctor  Delany  is  as  agreeable  a 
companion  as  ever  I  met  with,  and  one  who  condescends 
to  converse  with  women,  and  treat  them  like  reasonable 
creatures.  Mr.  Wesley  you  know,  and  my  opinion  of 
him.  These  are  the  sort  of  men  I  find  myself  inclined  to 
like,  and  wish  I  had  such  a  set  in  England. 

'Last  night  Miss  Kelly,  Donnellan,  and  I  went  to  a 
play-house,  the  first  night  of  their  acting.  They  opened 

73 


MRS.  DELANY 

with  Love  for  Love.  I  cannot  say  much  in  commenda- 
tion of  their  performance.  They  made  no  blunders,  and 
their  clothes  were  clean.' 

On  February  20th  she  writes,  a  propos  of  her  friendship 
with  Swift:  *  I  have  given  up  the  trial  of  skill  with  Kelly ; 
her  beauty  and  assiduity  have  distanced  me,  and  I  will 
not  attempt  a  second  heat.  At  present  she  is  disabled, 
poor  thing,  for  she  is  confined  to  her  bed  with  a  pleuratic 
disorder,  but  the  Dean  attends  at  her  bedside ;  his  heart 
must  be  old  and  tough  indeed  if  that  does  not  conquer. 
But  Dr.  Delany  will  make  a  more  desirable  friend,  for  he 
has  all  the  qualities  requisite  for  friendship — zeal,  tender- 
ness, and  application ;  I  believe  you  would  like  him  be- 
cause he  is  worthy.  .  .  .  The  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's  is 
writing  a  poem  on  poetry.  Dr.  Delany  has  seen  what  is 
done  of  it ;  he  says  'tis  like  himself,  but  he  gives  us  no 
hopes  of  seeing  it  yet  awhile.  Mr.  Pope,  I  find,  has 
undertaken  to  lash  the  age;  I  believe  he  will  be  tired 
before  they  are  reformed.  He  says  he  will  spare  neither 
friend  nor  foe,  so  declaring  oneself  for  him  will  not  save 
us  from  a  stroke.' 

'  DANGAN,  April  5th. 

'The  day  before  we  came  out  of  town  we  dined  at 
Dr.  Delany's,  and  met  the  usual  company.  The  Dean  of 
St.  Patrick's  was  there  in  very  good  humour;  he  calls 
himself  "  my  master"  and  corrects  me  when  I  speak  bad 
English,  or  do  not  pronounce  my  words  distinctly.  I 
wish  he  lived  in  England ;  I  should  not  only  have  a  great 
deal  of  entertainment  from  him,  but  improvement.' 

Mrs.   Pendarves  returned   to   London   in   May   1733. 

Before  proceeding  with  her  own  personal  history  we  must 

give  some  account  of  a  little  romance  in  which  she  was 

mixed  up,  having  played  the  dangerous  part  of  match- 

74 


MRS.  DELANY 

maker.  In  the  autobiography  she  relates  how,  *  A  little 
before  I  made  my  visit  to  Ireland,  young  Tomasio  [Lord 
Wey mouth]  returned  from  his  travels,  being  just  of  age. 
He  was  son  to  Laura  by  her  first  husband,  and  heir  to 
great  honours  and  a  vast  estate.  I  had  been  so  used  to 
him  from  his  infancy  in  Alcander's  family  that  I  looked 
upon  him  as  my  younger  brother.  He  was  always  very 
fond  of  me,  and  being  ten  years  younger  than  myself,  I 
used  to  give  him  advice  upon  all  occasions,  and  he  had  an 
entire  confidence  in  me.  We  corresponded  when  he  was 
in  France,  and  I  often  told  him  he  must  let  me  choose 
him  a  wife,  which  he  said  I  should.  He  had  been  married 
in  his  minority  to  Lady  Elizabeth  Sackville,  daughter  of 
the  Duke  of  Dorset,  but  she  died  before  his  return  from 
his  travels,  so  they  never  lived  together. 

'Laura's  indiscretion  and  Alcander's  indolence  made 
me  fear  they  would  not  have  a  proper  attention  to  him, 
and  if  they  had  I  know  they  had  no  power  over  him.  He 
was  easily  led  by  those  he  was  fond  of,  but  jealous  and 
obstinate  when  he  thought  any  authority  was  usurped. 
His  behaviour  towards  me  was  very  obliging,  and  I  was 
so  far  from  losing  his  favour  by  any  advice  I  took  the 
liberty  of  giving  him,  that  at  last  I  began  to  fear  I  had 
gained  it  too  far.  I  was  not  only  related  to  the  Baron 
[Lord  Carteret],  but  I  had  a  particular  intimacy  with  the 
family,  and  with  the  Baron's  daughters,  who,  though 
much  younger  than  me,  were  very  fond  of  me,  and  I 
loved  them  all  very  well,  especially  the  second  daughter 
[Louisa  Carteret].  As  soon  as  I  could  judge  of  her 
disposition,  I  wished  that  Tomasio  might  like  her  as  well 
as  I  did.  She  was  very  sensible,  discreet,  of  a  complying 
temper,  gentle,  mild,  and  withal  very  lively.  Tomasio 
was  good-natured  and  affectionate,  liberal  without  distinc- 

75 


MRS.  DELANY 

tion,  warm  in  his  temper,  could  not  bear  contradiction, 
and  had  not  discernment  enough  to  be  reasoned  with. 
This  sort  of  disposition  was  hard  to  deal  with,  and 
required  all  those  qualities  Louisa  possessed  in  a  high 
degree.  Her  fortune  was  small,  but  she  had  been  bred 
up  in  magnificence,  and  knew  how  to  spend  a  large  one 
gracefully,  and  manage  it  prudently.  His  fortune  was  very 
large,  but  his  good  nature  and  want  of  resolution  turned 
his  natural  generosity  into  profuseness. 

'This  encouraged  me  to  lay  a  train  towards  making 
him  propose  to  her,  by  commending  her  on  all  occasions, 
and  telling  him  everything  I  thought  might  prejudice 
him  in  her  favour;  and  he  would  often  say,  "Why  do 
you  commend  her  so  much  ? "  and  he  did  not  know  if  he 
did  marry  why  he  should  not  choose  me,  for  that  he  liked 
me  better  than  anybody.  He  said  this  in  so  blunt  a 
manner  that  it  passed  with  me  for  a  joke,  till  he  repeated 
it  so  often  that  I  thought  it  time  to  let  him  see  that  I 
had  no  view  of  engaging  him  for  myself,  and  then  without 
disguise  mentioned  Louisa  as  the  person  in  the  world  I 
thought  best  fitted  to  make  him  happy.  He  did  not 
relish  this  proposal,  and  gave  me  no  other  answer  but 
that  he  must  return  to  France  before  he  settled,  but  that 
he  liked  Louisa  the  best  of  the  sisters. 

'  While  I  was  in  Ireland  it  was  reported  and  put  in  the 
news  that  Tomasio  had  returned  to  England,  and  was 
going  to  marry  Louisa.  I  wrote  to  him  immediately  to 
express  my  great  joy  at  an  alliance  I  had  so  much  wished 
for,  and  at  the  same  time  to  the  Baroness  to  know  the 
truth  of  the  report,  and  she  informed  me  there  was 
nothing  in  it.  This  was  just  before  I  left  Ireland.  I 
found,  on  my  coming  to  England,  Tomasio  was  living 
like  a  fine  gentleman  of  the  times.  I  was  much  grieved 
76 


MRS.  DELANY 

about  it,  because  if  it  continued  he  must  be  ruined  in 
every  way.  He  was  very  glad  to  see  me,  as  obliging  as 
usual,  and  pressed  me  extremely  to  make  him  a  visit  in  the 
country.  I  told  him  I  was  very  ready  to  do  it  when  he 
had  company  there  that  was  fit  for  me  to  keep.  He 
looked  confused,  and  asked  me  what  I  meant ;  upon  which 
I  told  him  what  I  heard,  and  freely  blamed  his  conduct, 
and  told  him  he  could  not  be  a  happy  man,  nor  make  a 
figure  suitable  to  his  birth  and  fortune  till  he  married 
some  one  equal  to  him  in  rank  and  condition ;  that  he 
had  a  great  deal  of  choice  before  him,  and  could  not  fail 
if  he  would  consult  his  reason  and  judgment.  He  looked 
grave  and  thoughtful  for  some  time,  and  then  said,  "I 
know  what  you  wish  ;  I  received  your  letter  from  Ireland,1' 
and  left  me  abruptly. 

'  A  few  days  after  he  came  to  see  me  again,  and  said, 
"  I  can  tell  you  a  piece  of  news  that  will  surprise  you : 
Louisa  is  absolutely  engaged — her  father  told  me  so  this 
morning."  I  was  extremely  surprised,  having  had  the 
night  before  a  great  deal  of  conversation  with  the 
Baroness,  who  engaged  me  as  much  as  possible  to  pro- 
mote this  match  with  Tomasio,  and  I  thought  it  strange 
the  Baron  should  not  have  acquainted  her  with  this 
engagement.  He  laughed  at  my  surprise,  and  told  me 
she  was  engaged,  it  was  true,  but  it  was  to  him.  I  was 
much  pleased  with  the  step  he  had  taken,  and  congratu- 
lated him  on  his  prudent  choice.  The  Baron  and  Baroness 
were  in  the  highest  joy  on  this  occasion.  Laura's  indis- 
cretion made  it  absolutely  necessary  it  should  be  kept  a 
secret.  Laura  liked  Louisa  very  well,  though  she  had  an 
inveterate  dislike  to  the  rest  of  the  family,  but  Alcander 
often  wished  it  might  be  a  match.  So  I  was  sworn  to 
silence  till  writings  and  clothes  were  ready,  and  then 

77 


MRS.  DELANY 

Tomasio  went  to  his  mother,  and  declared  his  intentions 
in  form,  and  she  seemingly  approved  of  it,  so  all  prepara- 
tions, magnificent  on  both  sides,  went  on. 

*  At  my  house  the  young  people  often  met,  and  nothing 
could  be  more  gentle,  amiable,  and  engaging  than  Louisa's 
behaviour.  She  liked  Tomasio  very  much,  who  was  hand- 
some, and,  when  he  softened  his  manner,  agreeable,  though 
she  was  not  quite  satisfied  with  his  behaviour,  which  I 
can't  say  had  much  of  a  lover  in  it,  and  often  made  me 
very  uneasy  ;  and,  when  I  told  him  of  it,  he  would  turn  it 
into  some  compliment  to  me,  which  vexed  me,  and  pre- 
vented me  saying  as  much  as  I  should  otherwise  have 
done,  and  I  was  willing  to  think  it  an  awkward  bashful- 
ness  which  he  always  had  when  not  quite  at  his  ease. 
But  I  knew  his  disposition  so  well,  and  Louisa's  great 
merit,  that  when  once  she  was  his  wife  I  was  sure  he 
would  love  and  admire  her.' 

The  majority  of  the  letters  for  the  year  1733  are 
addressed  to  Dean  Swift.  They  are,  it  will  be  noted, 
more  stilted  and  self-conscious  in  style  than  those  that 
were  only  intended  for  the  eye  of  sister  Anne.  Moreover, 
they  are  couched  in  the  language  of  extravagant  compli- 
ment which  seems  to  have  been  considered  the  correct 
style  for  an  intellectual  correspondence  between  ladies 
and  gentlemen  during  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  following  is  the  first  letter  addressed  to 
Swift,  and  is  dated 

'  LONDON,  May  2Qth,  1733. 

'  Sir, — You  will  find  to  your  cost  that  a  woman's  pen, 
when  encouraged,  is  as  bad  as  a  woman's  tongue ;  blame 
yourself,  not  me;  had  I  never  known  the  pleasure  of 
receiving  a  letter  from  you  I  should  not  have  persecuted 
you  now.  I  think  (a  little  to  justify  this  bold  attack) 
78 


MRS.  DELANY 

that  I  am  obliged  by  all  the  rules  of  civility  to  give  you 
an  account  of  the  letter  you  charged  me  with.  I  delivered 
it  into  my  Lord  Bathurst's  hands,  and  he  read  it  before  me. 
.  .  .  We  talked  of  your  vineyard  :  he  seemed  pleased  with 
every  subject  that  related  to  you,  and  I  was  very  ready  to 
indulge  him  that  way.  I  did  not  forget  to  brag  of  your 
favours  to  me :  if  you  intended  I  should  keep  the  secret, 
I  have  spoiled  all,  for  I  have  not  an  acquaintance  of  any 
worth  that  I  have  not  told  how  happy  I  have  been  in 
your  company.  Everybody  loves  to  be  envied,  and  this  is 
the  only  way  I  have  of  raising  people's  envy ;  I  hope,  sir, 
you  will  forgive  me,  and  let  me  know  if  I  have  behaved 
myself  right.  .  .  .' 

The  next  letters  to  the  Dean  are  from  Gloucester, 
where  Mary  was  spending  the  summer  with  her  mother 
and  sister. 

'  May  I  say  without  offending  you,1  she  writes  on  July 
21st,  'that  I  was  overjoyed  at  the  honour  you  did  me  in 
answering  my  letter  ?  And  do  not  call  me  formal  when  I 
assure  you  that  I  think  myself  made  happy  by  such  a 
distinction.  It  was  stupidity  in  me  not  to  let  you  know 
where  to  address  to  me,  but  I  do  not  repent  of  it ;  I  have 
by  that  means  tried  your  zeal,  but  I  am  afraid  your  good- 
breeding  more  than  your  inclination  procured  me  that 
favour.  I  am  resolved  to  be  even  with  you  for  what  you 
say  about  my  writing,  and  will  henceforward  write  to  you 
as  carelessly  as  I  can ;  and,  if  it  is  not  legible,  thank  your- 
self. I  do  not  wonder  at  the  envy  of  the  ladies,  when  you 
are  pleased  to  speak  of  me  with  some  regard :  I  give  them 
leave  to  exercise  their  malice  on  an  occasion  that  does  me 
so  much  honour.  I  protest  I  am  not  afraid  of  you,  and 
would  appear  quite  natural  to  you,  in  the  hopes  of  your 

79 


MRS.  DELANY 

rewarding  my  openness  and  sincerity  by  correcting  what 
you  disapprove  of;  and,  since  I  have  not  now  an  oppor- 
tunity of  receiving  your  favours  of  pinching  and  beating, 
make  me  amends  by  chiding  me  for  every  word  that  is 
•false-spelt  and  for  my  bad  English.  You  see  what  you 
are  like  to  suffer.  If  this  promises  you  too  much  trouble 
do  not  give  me  so  much  encouragement  in  your  next 
letter,  for  upon  something  in  your  last  I  have  almost  per- 
suaded myself  that,  by  your  assistance  and  my  own  most 
earnest  desire,  I  may  in  time  become  worthy  of  your  care. 
Vanity  stands  at  my  elbow  all  this  while,  and  animates  me 
by  a  thousand  agreeable  promises :  without  her  encourage- 
ment I  should  never  have  presumed  to  correspond  with  the 
Dean  of  St.  Patrick's.  You  must  not  be  angry  with  me 
for  keeping  her  company,  for  I  had  very  little  acquaintance 
with  her  till  I  had  received  some  marks  of  your  favour. 
...  I  wish  you  could  make  your  worcjs  good,  and  that  I 
was  a  sorceress ;  I  should  then  set  all  my  charms  to  work 
to  bring  you  to  England,  and  should  expect  a  general 
thanksgiving  for  employing  my  spells  to  so  good  a 
purpose.  .  .  .  My  Lord  Lansdowne  is  much  at  your 
service,  laments  the  days  that  are  past,  and  constantly 
drinks  your  health  in  champagne  as  clear  as  your  thoughts 
and  as  sparkling  as  your  wit.  .  .  . 

( I  attended  Lord  and  Lady  Weymouth  [the  Tomasio 
and  Louisa  of  the  autobiography]  down  to  Longleat,  and 
left  them  with  as  much  prospect  of  happiness  as  matri- 
mony can  give :  they  are  pleased  with  one  another  at 
present,  and  I  hope  that  will  continue.  My  Lord  and 
Lord  Carteret  are  both  satisfied  with  the  disposal  of  their 
daughter  in  so  advantageous  a  station.  Common  report 
wrongs  my  Lord  Weymouth,  for  which  reason,  as  I  am 
his  friend,  I  must  tell  you  his  good  qualities.  He  has 
80 


MRS.  DELANY 

honour  and  good-nature,  and  does  not  want  for  sense ;  he 
loves  the  country,  and  inclines  a  little  too  much  to  his 
stable  and  dog-kennel ;  he  keeps  a  very  hospitable,  good 
house,  and  is  always  ready  to  relieve  those  in  distress ;  his 
lady,  Dr.  Delany  can  give  you  a  character  of,  and  is  what 
I  believe  you  will  approve.  .  .  .' 

'  GLOUCESTER,,  Oct.  24th,  1733. 

'  I  cannot  imagine  how  my  Lord  Orrery  came  by  my 
last  letter  to  you.  I  believe  my  good  genius  conveyed  it 
into  his  hand  to  make  it  of  more  consequence  to  you.  If 
it  had  that  effect ,  I  wish  this  may  meet  with  the  same 
fortune.  If  I  were  writing  to  a  common  correspondent  I 
should  now  make  a  fine  flourish  to  excuse  myself  for  not 
sooner  answering  the  favour  of  your  letter ;  but  I  must 
deal  plainly  with  you,  sir,  and  tell  you  (now,  do  not  be 
angry)  that  the  fear  of  tiring  you  stopped  my  hand.  I 
value  your  correspondence  so  highly  that  I  think  of  every 
way  that  may  preserve  it;  and  one  is  not  to  be  too 
troublesome.  Now,  I  cannot  guess  how  you  will  take  this 
last  paragraph,  but  if  it  makes  me  appear  affected  or 
silly,  I  will  endeavour  not  to  offend  in  the  same  manner 
again.  Some  mortification  of  that  kind  is  wanting  to 
bring  me  to  myself.  Your  ways  of  making  compliments 
are  dangerous  snares,  and  I  do  not  know  how  to  guard 
against  the  pleasures  they  bring.  To  be  remembered  and 
regretted  by  you  are  pleasures  of  a  very  delicate  kind ;  I 
have  been  told  that  unexpected  good  fortune  is  harder  to 
bear  than  adversity. 

'The  cold  weather,  I  suppose,  has  gathered  together 
Dr.  Delany "s  set.  The  next  time  you  meet,  may  I  beg  the 
favour  to  make  my  compliments  acceptable  ?  I  recollect 
no  entertainment  with  so  much  pleasure  as  what  I  received 
from  that  company ;  it  has  made  me  lament  very  sincerely 
F  81 


MRS.  DELANY 

the  many  hours  in  my  life  that  I  have  lost  in  insignificant 
conversation. 

'A  few  days  before  I  had  your  last  letter  my  sister 
I  made  a  visit  to  my  Lord  and  Lady  Bathurst  at 
Cirencester.  Oakley  Wood  joins  to  his  park,  and  the 
grand  avenue  that  goes  from  his  house  through  the  park 
and  wood  is  five  miles  long,  and  the  whole  contains  five 
thousand  acres.  Lord  Bathurst l  talks  with  great  delight 
of  the  pleasure  you  once  gave  him  by  surprising  him  in 
his  wood,  and  showed  me  the  house  where  you  lodged.  It 
has  been  rebuilt,  for  the  day  you  left  it  it  fell  to  the 
ground  ;  conscious  of  the  honour  it  had  received  by  enter- 
taining so  illustrious  a  stranger,  it  burst  with  pride  !  .  .  . 
All  the  beau  monde  flock  to  London  to  see  her  Royal  High- 
ness (the  Princess  Royal)  disposed  of ;  but  I  prefer  my  duty 
to  my  mother,  and  the  conversation  of  a  country  girl  (my 
sister)  to  all  the  pomp  and  splendour  of  a  court.  Is  this 
virtue  or  is  it  stupidity  ?  It  is  a  little  unreasonable  of 
me  to  begin  a  fourth  page,  but  it  is  a  hard  task  to  retire 
from  the  company  one  likes  best. — I  am,  sir,  your  most 
obliged  and  faithful,  humble  servant, 

'M.  PENDARVES/ 

Mary  and  her  sister  probably  spent  the  greater  part  of 
this  year  together,  for  the  long,  regular  letters  to  Anne  at 
Gloucester  do  not  begin  again  until  December  1733. 
In  this  month  Mary  is  staying  at  Longleat  with 
the  newly-married  Lord  and  Lady  Weymouth.  In  a 
letter  dated  February  16th,  1734,  there  is  an  account  of 
the  marriage  of  another  daughter  of  Lady  Carteret  to 
John  Spencer,  brother  of  the  Duke  of  Maryborough. 

*  They  were  married,'  writes  Mrs.  Pendarves,  '  between 

1  The  first  Earl,  who  was  distinguished  for  his  wit  and  learning. 

82 


MRS.  DELANY 

eight  and  nine  o'  the  clock  at  night.  After  they  were 
married  they  played  a  pool  of  commerce,  supped  at  ten, 
went  to  bed  between  twelve  and  one,  and  went  to  Windsor 
Lodge  the  next  day  at  noon. . . .  Everybody  at  the  wedding 
was  magnificent.  Their  clothes  are  now  laid  by  for  the 
royal  wedding,  which  will  be  about  three  weeks  hence. 
I  have  got  my  wedding  garment  ready ;  'tis  a  brocaded 
lutestring,  white  ground,  with  great  ramping  flowers 
in  shades  of  purples,  reds,  and  greens.  I  gave  thirteen 
shillings  a  yard;  it  looks  better  than  it  describes,  and 
will  make  a  show.  I  shall  wear  it  with  dark  purple  and 
gold  ribbon,  and  a  black  hood  for  decency's  sake.' 

In  a  letter  dated  March  16th,  1734,  there  is  a  description 
of  the  royal  wedding,  or  rather  of  the  dresses  that  were 
worn.  '  The  Princess  of  Orange's  dress  was  the  prettiest 
thing  that  ever  was  seen — a  corps  de  robe,  that  is,  in  plain 
English,  a  stiff-bodied  gown.  The  eight  peers'  daughters 
that  held  up  her  train  were  in  the  same  sort  of  dress — all 
white  and  silver — with  great  quantities  of  jewels  in  their 
hair,  and  long  locks ;  some  of  them  were  very  pretty  and 
well-shaped — it  is  a  most  becoming  dress.  The  princess 
wore  a  mantua  and  petticoat,  white  damask  with  the 
finest  embroidery  of  rich  embossed  gold.  On  one  side  of 
her  head  she  had  a  green  diamond  of  vast  size,  the  shape 
of  a  pear,  and  two  pearls  prodigiously  large  that  were 
fastened  to  wires,  and  hung  loose  in  her  hair;  on  the 
other  side  small  diamonds  prettily  disposed ;  her  earrings, 
necklace,  and  bars  to  her  stays  all  extravagantly  fine, 
presents  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  to  her.  .  .  .  We  went 
at  one  to  the  drawing-room — such  crowding,  such  finery 
I  never  saw ;  with  great  difficulty  I  made  my  curtsey,  and 
the  queen  commended  my  clothes.  We  got  home  to  dinner 
about  five,  and  went  to  the  ball  at  eight,  were  so  squeezed 

83 


MRS.  DELANY 

for  half  an  hour  that  'twas  insupportable,  but  Lord 
Baltimore  permitted  us  to  go  up  into  the  gallery;  he 
made  way  for  us,  and  we  were  happily  placed  where  we 
could  see  everything.' 

In  April  Mrs.  Pendarves  confides  to  her  sister  a  pro- 
posal of  marriage  that  she  had  received,  not  it  must  be 
confessed  of  a  very  romantic  kind.  The  gentleman,  a 
middle-aged  widower,  named  Prideaux,  had  paid  her 
some  attention  the  summer  before,  and  on  meeting  him 
at  tea  at  the  house  of  a  common  friend,  '  my  mind,1  she 
says,  *  misgave  me  plaguely.  I  stayed  about  two  hours ; 
the  man  talked  sensibly  enough,  described  some  part  of 
his  house,  particularly  his  library,  which  is  a  very  large 
one  (I  suppose  what  belonged  to  his  father,  Dr.  Prideaux, 
who  wrote  the  Connection  between  the  Old  and  New 
Testament),  talked  of  his  pictures,  his  love  of  music, 
and  is  a  sort  of  performer  (upon  the  fiddle)  I  believe.1 
The  result  of  this  meeting  was  that  the  accommodating 
friend,  a  Mrs.  Harris,  called  upon  Mrs.  Pendarves,  and 
explained  that  she  '  was  desired  by  Mr.  Prideaux  to  make 
known  his  circumstances  to  me,  and  to  beg  leave  he  might 
wait  upon  me.  He  is  a  widower,  aged  between  forty  and 
fifty ;  he  has  four  sons  that  are  at  school,  and  are  always 
to  be  kept  abroad,  and  one  daughter  nine  years  old.  His 
estate  is  between  two  and  three  thousand  a  year,  twenty 
thousand  pounds  of  which  is  unsettled,  and  to  be  at  my 
disposal  if  I  please.  He  lives  for  a  constancy  in  the 
country;  his  character  is  that  of  an  honest  gentleman 
and  a  man  of  sense.  Thus  have  I  given  you  a  true  state 
of  the  case,  with  what  advantages  it  may  appear  to  you 
I  know  not,  but  it  did  not  tempt  me !  The  five  children, 
without  considering  any  other  circumstance,  determined 
me  to  say  "  No.1'  I  am  afraid  mama  will  think  I  was  too 
84 


MRS.  DELANY 

rash,  but  to  tell  you  the  truth,  matrimony  is  so  little  to 
my  disposition,  that  I  was  glad  to  lay  hold  of  a  reasonable 
excuse  for  not  accepting  the  proposal,  and  I  was  as  glad 
to  find  he  had  five  children  as  some  people  would  have 
been  at  hearing  he  had  five  thousand  a  year.1 

In  the  same  letter  is  an  allusion  to  a  little  musical 
entertainment  that  Mrs.  Pendarves  had  recently  given 
to  some  dozen  of  her  music-loving  friends.  Among  the 
guests  was  the  great  Mr.  Handel.  '  I  was  never  so  well 
entertained  at  an  opera,'  she  writes.  '  Mr.  Handel  was  in 
the  best  humour  in  the  world,  and  played  lessons  and 
accompanied  Strada  and  all  the  ladies  that  sung  from 
seven  o'clock  until  eleven.  I  gave  them  tea  and  coffee, 
and  about  half  an  hour  after  nine  had  a  salver  brought  in 
of  chocolate,  mulled  white  wine,  and  biscuits.  Everybody 
was  easy  and  seemed  pleased.1 

It  is  about  this  time  that  we  find  the  first  mention  in 
the  letters  of  the  Duchess  of  Portland,  whose  friendship 
with  Mrs.  Pendarves  was  just  beginning,  a  friendship  that 
was  to  remain  close  and  unbroken  for  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury. Lady  Margaret  Cavendish  Harley,  the  daughter 
and  heiress  of  the  second  Lord  Oxford,  was  married  to 
the  second  Duke  of  Portland  in  1734.  As  a  child  she  had 
received  the  homage  of  Matthew  Prior  in  the  charming 
lines  beginning : 

'  My  noble,  lovely,  little  Peggy, 
Let  this,  my  First  Epistle,  beg  ye, 
At  dawn  of  morn  and  close  of  even, 
To  lift  your  heart  and  hands  to  heaven.' 

The  young  duchess  was  a  woman  of  unusual  culture, 
with  a  strong  taste  for  art  and  natural  science,  and  it  was 
perhaps  owing  to  the  stimulus  of  her  friendship  that  we 
find  Mary  working  steadily  at  crayon-drawing,  and,  as 

85 


MRS.  DELANY 

she  herself  phrased  it,  *  running  wild  after  shells.'  '  This 
morning,1  she  writes  on  June  7th,  1734,  *  I  have  set  my 
little  collection  of  shells  in  nice  order  in  my  cabinet,  and 
they  look  so  beautiful  that  I  must  by  some  means  enlarge 
my  stock ;  the  beauties  of  shells  are  as  infinite  as  of  flowers, 
and  to  consider  how  they  are  inhabited  enlarges  a  field  of 
wonder  that  leads  one  insensibly  to  the  great  Director  and 
Author  of  these  wonders.  How  surprising  is  it  to  observe 
the  indifference,  nay  (more  properly)  stupidity  of  mankind, 
that  seem  to  make  no  reflection  as  they  live,  are  pleased 
with  what  they  meet  with  because  it  has  beautiful  colours 
or  an  agreeable  sound;  there  they  stop  and  receive  but 
little  more  pleasure  from  them  than  a  horse  or  a  dog.  .  .  . 
I  am  delighted  with  your  bee-flower,  and  have  told  my 
Lady  Sunderland  of  it,  who  will  search  her  garden  library 
to  find  it  out,  and  if  it  thrives  with  you,  shall  be  very 
thankful  for  some  of  the  seed.  You  think,  madam,  that 
I  have  no  garden,  perhaps,  but  that's  a  mistake.  I 
have  one  as  big  as  your  parlour  at  Gloucester,  and  in  it 
groweth  damask  roses,  stocks,  variegated  and  plain,  pinks, 
phalaria,  some  dead  and  some  alive,  and  honeysuckles 
that  never  blow.  ...  I  have  sent  you  some  books  of 
music,  a  dormouse  pattern,  and  a  little  musk  and  lavender 
water  for  mama.' 


86 


CHAPTER  VI 

(1734-1736) 

IN  September  1734  Mrs.  Pendarves  writes  a  reproachful 
letter  to  Dean  Swift,  after  a  twelvemonth  gap  in  their 
correspondence. 

'I  find,'  she  says,  'your  correspondence  is  like  the 
singing  of  the  nightingale — no  bird  sings  so  sweetly, 
but  the  pleasure  is  quickly  past;  a  month  or  two  of 
harmony,  and  then  we  lose  it  till  next  spring.  I  wish 
your  favours  may  as  certainly  return.  I  am  at  this 
moment  not  only  deprived  of  your  letters,  but  of  all  other 
means  of  inquiring  after  your  health,  your  friends  and 
my  correspondents  being  dispersed  to  their  summer 
quarters.  The  last  letter  I  writ  to  you  was  from  Glou- 
cester, about  a  twelvemonth  ago ;  after  that  I  went  to 
Longleat  to  my  Lady  Weymouth;  came  to  town  in 
January,  where  I  have  remained  ever  since,  except  a  few 
weeks  at  Sir  John  Stanley's  at  Northend.  .  .  .  Mrs. 
Donnellan  sometimes  talks  of  making  a  winter's  visit  to 
Dublin,  and  has  vanity  enough  to  think  you  are  one  of 
those  that  will  treat  her  kindly.  Her  loss  will  to  me 
be  irreparable,  besides  the  mortification  it  will  be  to  me 
to  have  her  go  to  a  place  where  I  should  so  gladly  accom- 
pany her.  .  .  .  After  having  forced  myself  into  your 
company,  it  will  be  impertinent  to  make  you  a  longer 
visit,  and  to  destroy  the  intention  of  it,  which  was  to 
assure  you  of  my  being,  sir,  your  most  faithful  and 
obliged  servant,  M.  PENDARVES.' 

87 


MRS.  DELANY 

This  gentle  reminder  brought,  a  month  later,  the  follow- 
ing long  and  interesting  epistle  from  the  repentant  dean : 

'  When  I  received  the  honour  and  happiness  of  your 
last  letter  I  was  afflicted  with  a  pair  of  disorders  that  usually 
seize  me  once  a  year — these  are  giddiness  and  deafness, 
which  usually  last  a  month ;  the  first  tormenting  my 
body,  and  the  other  making  me  incapable  of  conversing. 
In  this  juncture  your  letter  found  me ;  but  I  was  able  to 
read,  though  not  to  hear ;  neither  did  I  value  my  deafness 
for  three  days,  because  your  letter  was  my  constant  enter- 
tainment during  that  time;  after  which  I  grew  sensibly 
better,  and  I  find  myself  well  enough  to  acknowledge  the 
great  favour  you  have  done  me,  but  cannot  guess  your 
motive  for  so  much  goodness.  I  guess  that  your  good 
genius  accidentally  meeting  mine  was  prevailed  on  to 
solicit  your  pity.  Or  would  you  appear  a  constant 
nymph,  when  all  my  goddesses  of  much  longer  acquaint- 
ance have  forsaken  me,  as  it  is  reasonable  they  should. 
But  the  men  are  almost  as  bad  as  the  ladies,  and  I  cannot 
but  think  them  in  the  right ;  for  I  cannot  make  shifts,  lie 
rough,  and  be  undone  by  starving  in  scanty  lodgings, 
without  horses,  servants,  and  conveniences,  as  I  used  to  do 
in  London,  with  port  wine,  or  perhaps  porter  ale,  to  save 
charges ! 

*  You  dare  not  pretend  to  say  that  your  town  equals 
ours  in  hospitable  evenings,  with  your  deep  play,  and  no 
entertainment  but  a  cup  of  chocolate,  unless  you  have 
mended  your  manners.  I  will  not  declare  your  reasons 
for  not  taking  a  trip  over  hither,  because  you  have  offered 
none  but  your  royal  will  and  pleasure ;  but  if  I  were  in 
the  case  of  your  friends  here,  with  more  life  before  me, 
and  better  health,  I  would  solicit  an  Act  of  Parliament  to 
88 


MRS.  DELANY 

prevent  your  coming  among  us ;  or,  at  least,  to  make  it 
high  treason  if  you  ever  leave  us.  In  the  meantime,  I 
wish  you  were  forced  over  here  by  debts  or  want,  because 
we  would  gladly  agree  to  a  contribution  for  life,  dinners 
and  suppers  excluded,  that  are  to  go  for  nothing.  I  speak 
for  the  public  good  of  this  country,  because  a  pernicious 
heresy  prevails  here  among  the  men  that  it  is  the  duty  of 
your  sex  to  be  fools  in  every  article  except  what  is  merely 
domestic,  and  to  do  the  ladies  justice  there  are  very  few 
of  them  without  a  good  share  of  that  heresy,  except  upon 
one  article,  that  they  have  as  little  regard  for  family 
business  as  for  the  improvement  of  their  minds. 

'  I  have  had  for  some  time  a  design  to  write  against 
this  heresy,  but  have  now  laid  these  thoughts  aside,  for 
fear  of  making  both  sexes  my  enemies ;  however,  if  you 
will  come  over  to  my  assistance,  I  will  cany  you  about 
among  our  adversaries,  and  dare  them  to  produce  one 
instance  where  your  want  of  ignorance  makes  you  affected, 
pretending,  conceited,  disdainful,  endeavouring  to  speak 
like  a  scholar,  with  twenty  more  faults  objected  by  them- 
selves, their  lovers,  or  their  husbands.  But  I  fear  your 
case  is  desperate,  for  I  know  you  never  laugh  at  a  jest 
before  you  understand  it ;  and  I  much  question  whether 
you  understand  a  fan,  or  have  so  good  a  fancy  at  silks  as 
others ;  and  your  way  of  spelling  would  not  be  intelligible. 
Therefore,  upon  your  arrival  hither,  I  will  give  you 
licence  to  be  as  silly  as  you  can  possible  afford,  one  half 
hour  every  week,  to  the  heretics  of  each  sex,  to  atone  for 
which  you  are  to  keep  one  fasting  day  at  Dr.  DelanyX 
and  one  at  the  Deanery.  .  .  . 

'  Nothing  vexes  me  so  much  with  relation  to  you  as 
that  with  all  my  disposition  to  find  faults,  I  was  never 
once  able  to  fix  upon  anything  that  I  could  find  amiss 

89 


MRS.  DELANY 

although  I  watched  you  narrowly ;  for  when  I  found  we 
were  to  lose  you  soon,  I  kept  my  eyes  and  ears  always 
upon  you,  in  the  hopes  that  you  would  make  some  boutade. 
That  is,  you  know,  a  French  word,  and  signifies  a  sudden 
jerk  from  a  horse's  hinder  feet  which  you  did  not  expect, 
because  you  thought  him  for  some  months  a  sober  animal, 
and  this  hath  been  my  case  with  several  ladies  I  chose  for 
friends ;  in  a  week,  a  month,  or  a  year,  hardly  one  of 
them  failed  to  give  me  a  boutade ;  therefore,  I  command 
you  will  obey  my  orders  in  coming  over  hither  for  one 
whole  year ;  after  which,  upon  the  first  boutade  you  make 
I  will  give  you  my  pass  to  be  gone. 

'Are  you  acquainted  with  the  Duke  of  Chandos?  I 
know  your  cozen  Lansdowne  and  he  were  intimate  friends. 
I  have  known  the  duke  long  and  well,  and  thought  I  had 
a  share  in  his  common  favour,  but  he  hath  lately  given 
me  great  cause  of  complaint.  I  was  pressed  by  many 
persons  of  learning  here  to  write  to  his  Grace,  that 
having  some  old  records  relating  to  this  kingdom,  which 
were  taken  from  hence  by  the  Earl  of  Clarendon,  who  was 
Lieutenant  here,  and  purchased  them  from  private  owners, 
and  are  now  in  the  duke's  possession,  that  his  grace  would 
please  to  bestow  them  to  the  universities  here,  because 
Irish  antiquities  are  of  little  value  or  curiosity  to  any 
other  nation.  I  writ  with  all  the  civility  in  my  power, 
and  with  compliments  on  the  fame  of  his  generosity,  but 
he  hath  pleased  to  be  silent  above  six  weeks,  which  is  the 
first  treatment  of  that  kind  I  ever  met  with  from  an 
English  person  of  quality,  and  would  better  become  a 
little  Irish  baron  than  a  great  English  duke. 

'  If  I  have  tired  you,  it  is  the  effect  of  the  great  esteem 
I  have  for  you  ;  do  but  lessen  your  own  merits,  and  I  will 
shorten  my  letters  in  proportion.  If  you  will  come  among 
90 


MRS.  DELANY 

us,  I  engage  that  dreadful,  old  beggarly,  western  parson 
to  residence ;  otherwise,  we  all  resolve  to  send  him  over, 
which  is,  in  our  opinion,  the  surest  way  to  drive  you 
hither,  for  you  will  be  in  more  haste  to  fly  from  him  than 
to  follow,  even  Mrs.  Donnellan.  .  .  .' 

At  this  period  Mrs.  Pendarves  was  so  much  with  her 
sister,  who  was  out  of  health,  that  the  family  letters  are 
few,  and  of  no  special  interest,  but  the  correspondence  with 
Swift  continues  at  intervals  of  a  few  months.  In  November 
1734  she  acknowledges  the  foregoing  letter,  and  excuses 
herself  for  not  having  answered  sooner  on  account  of 
a  disorder  in  one  of  her  eyes.  '  I  wonder,1  she  continues, 
'  you  should  be  at  a  loss  for  a  reason  for  my  writing  to 
you;  we  all  love  honour  and  pleasure,  and,  were  your 
letters  dull,  do  you  imagine  my  vanity  would  not  be  fond 
of  corresponding  with  the  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's  ?  But, 
the  last  reason  you  give  I  like  best,  and  will  stick  by, 
which  is  that  I  am  a  more  constant  nymph  than  all  your 
goddesses  of  much  longer  acquaintance,  and,  furthermore, 
I  venture  to  promise,  you  are  in  no  danger  of  receiving  a 
boutade,  if  that  depends  on  my  will.  As  for  those  fast- 
ing days  you  talk  of,  they  are,  I  confess,  alluring  baits,  and 
I  should  certainly  have  been  with  you  in  three  packets 
according  to  your  commands,  could  I  either^  or  swim,  but 
I  am  a  heavy  lump,  destined  for  a  few  years  to  this  earthly 
element;  I  cannot  move  about  without  the  concurrent 
assistance  of  several  animals  that  are  very  expensive. 

4  Now  for  business :  as  soon  as  I  received  your  letter  I 
wrote  to  my  uncle  Lansdowne,  and  spoke  to  him  about  the 
Duke  of  Chandos.  He  desired  me  to  make  his  compli- 
ments to  you,  and  to  tell  you  he  was  very  sorry  he  could 
be  of  no  service  to  you  in  that  affair,  but  he  has  had  no 
manner  of  correspondence  with  the  duke  these  fifteen 

91 


MRS.  DELANY 

years.  I  have  put  it,  however,  into  hands  that  will 
pursue  it  diligently,  and,  I  hope,  obtain  for  you  what 
you  desire ;  if  they  do  not  succeed,  you  must  not  call  me 
negligent,  for  whatever  lies  in  my  power  to  serve  you  is 
of  too  much  consequence  for  me  to  neglect.  I  have  left 
my  good  friend  and  your  humble  servant  Mrs.  Donnellan 
behind  me  in  London,  where  she  meets  with  little  enter- 
tainment suitable  to  her  understanding;  and  she  is  a 
much  fitter  companion  for  the  Dublin  Thursday  society 
than  for  the  trifling  company  she  is  now  engaged  in.  I 
wish  you  had  her  with  you,  as  I  cannot  have  her,  because 
I  know  she  would  be  happier  than  where  she  is,  and  my 
wish  I  think  no  bad  one  for  you.  .  .  .' 

In  February,  1735,  the  deaths  of  Lord  and  Lady  Lans- 
downe  occurred  within  a  few  days  of  each  other.  None  of 
Mrs.  Pendarves's  letters  concerning  the  loss  of  her  favourite 
uncle  appears  to  have  been  preserved,  but  the  event  made 
a  considerable  difference  in  the  family  fortunes,  Mary's 
eldest  brother,  Bernard  Granville,  succeeding  to  Lord 
Lansdowne's  property,  though  not  to  his  title.  An  allusion 
to  Lord  Lansdowne's  death  occurs  in  the  following  letter 
from  Swift,  dated  February  22nd,  1735  :— 

'MADAM, — I  have  observed  among  my  own  sex,  and 
particularly  in  myself,  that  those  of  us  who  grow  most 
insignificant  expect  most  civility,  and  give  less  than  they 
did  when  they  were  possibly  good  for  something.  I  am 
grown  sickly,  weak,  lean,  forgetful,  peevish,  spiritless,  and 
for  those  very  reasons  expect  that  you,  who  have  nothing 
to  do  but  to  be  happy,  should  be  entertaining  me  with 
your  letters  and  civilities,  although  I  never  return  either. 
Your  last  is  dated  above  two  months  ago,  since  which 
time  I  never  had  one  hour  of  health  or  spirit  to  acknow- 
ledge it.  It  is  your  fault ;  why  did  you  not  come  sooner 
92 


MRS.  DELANY 

into  the  world,  or  let  me  come  later  ?  It  is  your  fault  for 
coming  into  Ireland  at  all ;  it  w  your  fault  for  leaving  it. 
I  confess  your  case  is  hard,  for  if  you  return  you  are  a 
great  fool  to  come  among  beggars  and  slaves,  if  you  do 
not  return  you  are  a  great  knave  in  forsaking  those  you 
have  seduced  to  admire  you. 

*  The  complaint  you  make  of  a  disorder  in  your  eyes 
will  admit  of  no  raillery ;  it  is  what  I  was  heartily  afflicted 
to  hear,  but  since  you  were  able  to  write,  I  hope  it  hath 
entirely  left  you.  I  am  often  told  that  I  am  an  ill  judge 
of  ladies1  eyes,  so  I  shall  make  you  an  ill  compliment  in 
confessing  that  I  read  in  yours  all  the  accomplishments 
I  found  in  your  mind  and  conversation,  and  happened  to 
agree  in  my  thoughts  with  better  judges.  I  only  wish 
they  would  never  shine  out  of  Dublin,  for  then  you  would 
recover  the  only  temporal  blessings  this  town  affords — 
I  mean  sociable  dinners  and  cheerful  evenings,  which, 
without  your  assistance,  we  shall  certainly  lose.  For  Dr. 
Delany  lives  entirely  at  Delville — the  town  air  will  not 
agree  with  his  lady — and  in  winter  there  is  no  seeing  him 
or  dining  with  him  but  by  those  who  keep  coaches,  and 
they  must  return  the  moment  after  dinner.  Your  false 
reasons  for  not  coming  hither  are  the  same  in  one  article 
for  my  not  going  among  you,  I  mean  the  business  of 
expense ;  but  I  can  remove  yours  easily.  It  is  but  to  stay 
with  us  always,  and  then  you  can  live  at  least  three  times 
better  than  at  home,  where  everything  is  thrice  as  dear, 
and  your  money  twelve  in  the  hundred  better,  whereas 
my  sickness  and  years  make  it  impossible  for  me  to  live 
at  London.  I  must  have  three  horses,  as  many  servants, 
and  a  large  house,  neither  can  I  live  without  constant 
wine,  while  my  poor  revenues  are  sinking  every  day. 

'  I  am  very  sorry  for  the  death  of  your  cousin  Lans- 

93 


MRS.  DELANY 

downc ;  his  son  [i.e.  son-in-law]  Graham  is  ruining  himself 
as  fast  as  possible,  but  I  hope  the  young  lady  has  an 
untouchable  settlement.  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  your 
care  about  that  business  with  the  Duke  of  Chandos.  I 
hear  he  told  a  person  he  would  grant  my  request,  but 
"  that  he  had  no  acquaintance  with  me."" 

*  Well,  madam,  pray  God  bless  you  wherever  you  go  or 
reside.  May  you  ever  be  as  you  are,  agreeable  to  Killala 
curate  and  Dublin  dean,  for  I  disdain  to  mention  tem- 
poral folk  without  gowns  or  cassocks.  I  will  wish  for 
your  happiness,  though  I  shall  never  see  you,  as  Horace 
did  for  Galatea,  when  she  was  going  a  long  voyage  from 
home.  Pray  read  the  verses  in  the  original : 

' "  Sis  licet  felix  ubicunque  malis 

Et  memor  nostri  Galatea  vivas,"  etc. 

A  year  or  two  ago  I  would  have  put  the  whole  into 
English  verse  and  applied  it  to  you,  but  my  rhyming  is 
fled  with  my  health,  and  what  is  more  to  be  pitied,  even 
my  vein  of  satire  on  ladies  is  lost.1 

In  March,  Anne  Granville  appears  to  be  staying  with  her 
sister  in  town,  and  Mrs.  Pendarves  writes  to  her  mother : 

'My  sister  is  very  much  mended  by  Dr.  Hollins's  pre- 
scriptions; she  looks  abundantly  better,  and  is  as  lively 
as  she  used  to  be.  .  .  .  There  is  to  be  a  magnificent 
masquerade  at  the  Spanish  Ambassador's  after  Lent; 
happy  are  those  who  can  get  tickets.  I  hope  to  get  one 
for  my  sister,  for  it  will  be  a  show  worth  going  to.  To- 
night is  Farinelli's  benefit ;  all  the  polite  world  will  flock 
there.  I  don't  love  mobbing,  so  I  shall  leave  them  to 
themselves.  My  sister  gave  you  an  account  of  Mr. 
Handel's  playing  here  for  three  hours  together ;  I  did  wish 
for  you,  for  no  entertainment  in  music  could  exceed  it.' 
94 


MRS.  DELANY 

There  seems  to  have  been  some  little  difficulty  about 
the  settlement  of  Lord  Lansdowne's  affairs,  for  in  May, 
1735,  Lady  Granville *  writes  to  Mrs.  Pendarves,  '  My  son, 
my  Lord  Gower,  and  I  have  not  the  least  intention  to 
wrong  your  brother,  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  make  him 
master  of  his  estate  without  vexatious  delays.  I  give 
you  free  leave  to  read  this  to  Sir  John  Stanley  and  your 
brother,  and  afterwards,  if  I  can't  prevail,  if  we  are  not  to 
go  on  in  an  amicable  way,  I  shall  think  both  the  Knight 
and  the  Esqre  are  of  the  family  of  the  Wrongheads. 
When  I  am  indifferent  to  people,  I  let  them  go  their  ways, 
but  your  brother  I  have  had  so  much  at  heart  to  see  happy 
that  I  would  not  have  him  take  the  contrary  way  to  it.1 

A  few  more  extracts  from  the  letters  which  passed 
between  Mrs.  Pendarves  and  Dr.  Swift  before  the  great 
man's  brilliant  intellect  suffered  a  final  eclipse  may  bring 
this  chapter  to  a  conclusion. 

MRS.  PENDARVES  TO  DR.  SWIFT. 

'  May  16,  1735. 

'  You  have  never  yet  put  it  in  my  power  to  accuse  you 
of  want  of  civility,  for  since  my  acquaintance  with  you 
you  have  always  paid  me  more  than  I  expected ;  but  I 
may  sometimes  tax  you  with  want  of  kindness,  which,  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  did  for  a  month  at  least.  At  last 
I  was  informed  your  not  writing  to  me  was  occasioned 
by  your  ill  state  of  health ;  that  changed  my  discontent, 
but  did  not  lessen  it,  and  I  have  not  yet  quite  deter- 
mined it  in  my  mind,  whether  I  would  have  you  sick  or 

1  Countess  Granville  was  a  daughter  of  the  first  Earl  of  Bath,  mother 
of  Lord  Carteret,  and  great-aunt  of  Mrs.  Delany.  She  and  her  sister, 
Lady  Jane  Leveson  Gower,  were  co-heiresses  of  their  nephew,  the  third 
Earl  of  Bath. 

95 


MRS.  DELANY 

negligent  of  me ;  they  are  both  great  evils  and  hard  to 
choose  out  of — I  heartily  wish  neither  may  happen. 
You  call  yourself  by  a  great  many  ill  names,  which  I  take 
ill,  for  I  never  could  bear  to  hear  a  person  I  value  abused ; 
I  much  easier  forgive  your  calling  me  knave  and  fool.  .  .  . 
'  I  believe  you  have  had  a  quiet  winter  in  Dublin ;  not 
so  has  it  been  with  us  in  London;  hurry,  wrangling, 
extravagance,  and  matrimony  have  reigned  with  great 
impetuosity.  Our  operas  have  given  much  cause  of  dis- 
sension ;  men  and  women  have  been  deeply  engaged,  and 
no  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons  has  been  urged  with 
more  warmth.  The  dispute  of  the  merits  of  the  com- 
posers and  singers  is  earned  to  so  great  a  height  that  it 
is  much  feared  by  all  true  lovers  of  music  that  operas 
will  be  quite  overturned.  I  own  I  think  we  make  a  very 
silly  figure  about  it.  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the 
two  Latin  lines  in  your  last  letter;  it  gave  me  a  fair 
pretence  of  showing  the  letter  to  have  them  explained, 
and  I  have  gained  no  small  honour  by  that.  .  .  / 

'  BATH,  Jan.  7,  1736. 

'  I  am  told  you  have  some  thoughts  of  coming  here  in 
the  spring.  I  do  not  think  it  proper  to  tell  you  how  well 
pleased  I  am  with  that  faint  prospect.  I  write  in  all 
haste  to  know  if  you  really  have  any  such  design,  for  if 
you  have,  I  shall  order  my  affairs  accordingly,  that  I  may 
be  able  to  meet  you  here.  The  good  old  custom  of  wish- 
ing a  happy  new  year  to  one^s  friends  is  now  exploded 
among  our  refined  people  of  the  present  age,  but  I  hope 
you  will  give  me  leave  to  tell  you  without  being  offended 
that  I  wish  you  many  years  of  happiness.  .  .  .  The 
physicians  have  at  last  advised  my  sister  to  the  Bath 
waters.  We  have  been  here  a  fortnight.  They  do  not 
96 


MRS.  DELANY 

disagree  with  her,  that  is  all  that  can  be  said  for  the 
present.  I  think  I  have  used  you  to  a  bad  custom  of 
late,  that  of  writing  two  letters  for  one  of  yours.  I  am 
often  told  I  have  great  assurance  in  writing  to  you  at  all, 
but  I  know  you  to  be  as  much  above  criticising  a  letter 
of  mine  as  I  should  be  below  your  notice  if  I  gave  myself 
any  affected  airs.  You  have  encouraged  my  correspond- 
ence, and  I  should  be  a  brute  if  I  did  not  make  the  best 
of  such  an  opportunity.  .  .  .' 

DR.    SWIFT   TO    MRS.    PENDARVES. 

'  DUBLIN,  Jan.  29,  1736. 

4 1  had  indeed  some  intention  to  go  to  Bath,  but  I  had 
neither  health  or  leisure  for  such  a  journey ;  those  times 
are  past  with  me,  and  I  am  older  by  fourscore  since  the 
first  time  I  had  the  honour  to  see  you.  I  got  a  giddiness 
of  raw  fruit  when  I  was  a  lad  in  England,  which  I  never 
could  be  wholly  rid  of,  and  it  is  now  too  late,  so  that  I 
confine  myself  entirely  to  a  domestic  life.  I  am  visited 
seldom,  but  visit  much  seldomer.  I  dine  alone  like  a  king, 
having  few  acquaintances,  and  those  lessening  daily.  This 
town  is  not  what  you  left  it,  and  I  impute  the  cause 
altogether  to  your  absence.  .  .  . 

'  It  was  impossible  to  answer  your  letter  from  Paradise 
[Mrs.  Pendarves's  name  for  Sir  John  Stanley's  villa  at 
Northend] — the  old  Grecians  of  Asia  called  every  fine 
garden  by  that  name ;  and  besides,  when  I  consulted  some 
friends,  they  conceived  that  wherever  you  resided  must 
needs  be  paradise.  Yet  this  was  too  general  a  direction 
if  you  had  a  humour  of  rambling.  With  great  submission, 
I  am  sorry  to  find  a  lady  make  use  of  the  word  paradise, 
from  which  you  turned  us  out  as  well  as  yourselves ;  and 
pray  tell  me  freely,  how  many  of  your  sex  bring  it  along 
G  97 


MRS.  DELANY 

with  them  to  their  husband's  houses?  I  was  still  at  a 
loss  where  this  paradise  of  yours  might  be,  when  Mrs. 
Donnellan  discovered  the  secret.  She  said  it  was  a  place 
where  K.  Charles  1st  in  his  troubles  used  to  ride,  because 
he  found  good  watering  for  his  horse !  If  that  be  all,  we 
have  ten  thousand  such  paradises  in  this  kingdom,  of  which 
you  may  have  your  choice,  as  my  bay  mare  is  ready  to  depose. 
4  It  is  either  a  very  low  way  of  thinking,  or  as  great  a 
failure  of  education  in  either  sex,  to  imagine  that  any 
man  increases  in  his  critical  faculty  in  proportion  to  his 
wit  and  learning;  it  falls  out  always  directly  contrary. 
A  common  carpenter  will  work  more  cheerfully  for  a 
gentleman  skilled  in  his  trade  than  for  a  conceited  fool 
who  knows  nothing  of  it.  I  must  despise  a  lady  who  takes 
me  for  a  pedant,  and  you  have  made  me  half  angry  with 
so  many  lines  in  your  letter  which  look  like  a  kind  of 
apology  for  writing  to  me.  Besides,  to  say  the  truth,  the 
ladies  in  general  are  extremely  mended  both  in  writing 
and  reading  since  I  was  young,  only  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
in  proper  time  gaming  and  dressing  may  reduce  them  to 
their  native  ignorance.  A  woman  of  quality,  who  had 
excellent  good  sense,  was  formerly  my  correspondent,  but 
she  scrawled  and  spelt  like  a  Wapping  wench,  having 
been  brought  up  in  a  Court  at  a  time  before  reading  was 
thought  of  any  use  to  a  female ;  and  I  know  several  others 
of  very  high  quality  with  the  same  defect.  .  .  .' 

MES.    PENDARVES   TO    DR.    SWIFT. 

'LONDON,  April  22,  1736. 

4 1  am  sorry  you  make  use  of  so  many  good  arguments 

for  not  coming  to  the  Bath ;  I  was  in  hopes  you  might  be 

prevailed  with.     I  left  the   Bath  last  Sunday  se'night, 

very  full  and  gay.     I  think  Bath  a  more  comfortable  place 

98 


MRS.  DELANY 

to  live  in  than  London  :  all  the  entertainments  of  the  place 
lie  in  a  small  compass,  and  you  are  at  liberty  to  partake 
of  them  or  let  them  alone,  j  ust  as  it  suits  your  humour. 
This  town  is  grown  to  such  an  enormous  size,  that  above 
half  the  day  must  be  spent  in  the  streets,  going  from  one 
place  to  another.  I  like  it  every  year  less  and  less.  .  .  . 

'  When  I  went  out  of  town  last  autumn,  the  reigning 
madness  was  Farinelli ;  I  find  it  now  turned  on  Pasquin, 
a  dramatic  satire  on  the  times.  It  has  had  almost  as 
long  a  run  as  the  Beggars1  Opera ;  but  in  my  opinion  not 
with  equal  merit,  though  it  has  humour.  Monstrous  pre- 
parations are  making  for  the  Royal  wedding  [of  Frederic, 
Prince  of  Wales].  I  am  too  poor  and  too  dull  to  make 
one  among  the  fine  multitude.  The  newspapers  say  my 
Lord  Carterefs  youngest  daughter  is  to  have  the  Duke  of 
Bedford  ;  I  hear  nothing  of  it  from  the  family,  but  think 
it  not  unlikely.  The  Duke  of  Marlborough  and  his  grand- 
mother [widow  of  the  famous  duke]  are  upon  bad  terms ; 
the  Duke  of  Bedford,  who  has  also  been  ill-treated  by  her, 
has  offered  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  to  supply  him  with  ten 
thousand  pounds  a  year  if  he  will  go  to  law  and  torment 
the  old  Dowager !  The  Duke  of  Chandos's  marriage  *• 
has  made  a  great  noise,  and  the  poor  Duchess  is  often  re- 
proached with  being  bred  up  in  Burr  Street,  Wapping.  .  .  .' 

'Sept.  2,  1736. 

4 1  never  will  accept  of  the  writ  of  ease  you  threaten 
me  with ;  do  not  flatter  yourself  with  any  such  hopes ;  I 
receive  too  many  advantages  from  your  letters  to  drop  a 
correspondence  of  such  consequence  to  me.  I  am  really 
grieved  that  you  are  so  much  persecuted  with  a  giddiness 
in  your  head ;  the  Bath  and  travelling  would  certainly  be 
of  use  to  you.  ...  I  am  uneasy  to  know  how  you  do, 

1  The  Duke's  third  wife  was  the  widow  of  Sir  Thomas  Davall,  knight. 

99 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  have  no  other  means  for  that  satisfaction  but  from 
your  own  hand.  I  should  have  made  this  inquiry  sooner, 
but  that  I  have  this  summer  undertaken  a  work  that  has 
given  me  full  employment,  which  is  making  a  grotto  in 
Sir  John  Stanley's  garden  at  Northend,  and  it  is  chiefly 
composed  of  shells  I  had  from  Ireland.  My  life,  for  two 
months  past,  has  been  very  like  a  hermit's ;  I  have  had 
all  the  comforts  of  life  but  society,  and  have  found  living 
quite  alone  a  pleasanter  thing  than  I  imagined.  The 
hours  I  could  spend  in  reading  have  been  entertained  by 
Rollings  History  of  the  Ancients  in  French.  I  am  very 
well  pleased  with  it,  and  think  your  Hannibals,  Scipios, 
and  Cyruses  prettier  fellows  than  are  to  be  met  with 
nowadays.  Painting  and  music  have  had  their  share  in 
my  amusements.  .  .  . 

'I  suppose  you  have  heard  of  Mr.  Pope's  accident, 
which  had  liked  to  have  proved  a  fatal  one.  He  was 
leading  a  young  lady  into  a  boat  from  his  own  stairs, 
when  her  foot  missed  the  side  of  the  boat,  she  fell  into 
the  water  and  pulled  Mr.  Pope  after  her :  the  boat  slipped 
away  and  they  were  immediately  out  of  their  depth,  and 
it  was  with  some  difficulty  they  were  saved.  The  young 
lady's  name  was  Talbot ;  she  is  as  remarkable  for  being 
a  handsome  young  woman  as  Mr.  Pope  is  for  wit.  I  think 
I  cannot  give  you  a  higher  notion  of  her  beauty,  unless 
I  had  named  you  instead  of  him.  .  .  .' 

This  seems  to  be  the  last  letter  that  has  been  preserved 
of  the  correspondence  with  Swift.  In  this  year,  1736, 
the  brain  trouble,  with  which  he  had  long  been  threatened, 
entered  upon  an  acuter  phase,  and  it  soon  became  necessary 
to  place  his  affairs  in  the  hands  of  trustees.  Swift  died 
in  1745,  and  his  old  friend,  Dr.  Delany,  was  one  of  his 
eight  executors. 
100 


CHAPTER  VII 

(1736-1740) 

THE  letters  to  Anne  Granville  continue  to  give  an 
account  of  all  the  amusements  and  occupations  of  her 
sister's  life.  In  May  1736,  Anne,  who  had  been  staying 
in  town,  returned  to  Gloucester,  and  on  the  very  evening 
of  her  departure,  Mary  writes  to  describe  how  she  has 
passed  that '  dismal  day ' : — 

*  I  curled,  powdered,  dressed,  and  went  to  Mrs.  Montagu 
at  one,  from  thence  to  Court,  where  we  were  touzled  and 
pushed  about  to  make  room  for  citizens  in  their  fur  gowns 
who  came  to  make  their  compliments  to  the  royal  pair. 
With  great  difficulty  we  made  our  curtsey  to  the  Princess 
of  Wales,  but  as  for  the  Prince,  you  might  as  well  have 
made  your  compliments  to  him  at  Henley !  It  was 
actually  more  crowded  than  the  day  we  went  to  be  pre- 
sented. From  the  Princess's  Court  we  went  to  the  Queen's, 
and  made  our  reverence.  I  dined  with  our  agreeable 
friends,  who  like  you  too  much  not  to  feel  for  me  to-day. 
It  is  now  just  eight;  my  Lady  Colladon  has  made  me 
promise  to  go  with  her  in  the  morning  to  Vanderbank's, 
the  painter's.  ...  I  have  taken  my  walk  with  Lady 
Colladon.  From  Vanderbank's  we  went  to  Marylebone, 
and  walked  in  the  gardens,  but  sun  and  dust  destroyed 
the  pleasure  of  the  walk.' 

It  is  in  this  year  that  we  first  find  Mrs.  Pendarves 
staying  with  her  friend,  the  Duchess  of  Portland,  at 
Bulstrode,  a  place  that,  in  later  life,  became  to  her  as  a 

101 


MRS.  DELANY 

second  home.  In  October  1736,  she  writes  from  Bulstrode 
to  Mrs.  Catherine  Colling  wood : 

'It  is  not  fair  to  enjoy  all  the  pleasures  of  this  place 
without  communicating  them  to  you,  but  I  think  it  will 
be  best  to  be  silent  on  that  head  for  two  reasons :  one  is, 
that  I  am  at  a  loss  to  tell  you  how  well  pleased  I  am  with 
my  entertainment ;  the  other  is,  not  to  tantalise  you.  .  .  . 
The  Duchess  received  your  letter  this  morning,  and  gave 
it  a  kind  welcome.  Don't  imagine  she  would  have  wrote 
to  you  to-day  if  I  had  not,  for  that  will  make  you  wish 
my  pen,  ink,  and  paper  in  the  fire.  She  could  not  possibly 
have  wrote  to  you,  for  what  with  praying,  entertaining 
agreeable  company,  kissing  Lady  Betty,  and  writing  four 
long  letters  of  great  importance,  she  had  not  an  inch  to 
spare.  We  make  use  of  the  fine  weather,  and  walk  all 
over  the  park  and  gardens :  they  are  very  fine,  and  so  is 
the  house;  and  though  we  live  as  magnificently  as  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  I  am  as  easy  as  if  I  was  at  home,  which 
is  charming  and  very  uncommon. 

4  Dear  Colly,  send  me  a  little  news  privately,  for  I  have 
exposed  my  ignorance  strangely  since  my  being  here. 
Nobody  by  my  conversation  could  think  that  I  was  just 
come  from  London,  but  rather  imagine  that  I  had  spent  my 
life  on  the  mountains !  We  have  variety  of  amusements, 
as  reading,  working,  and  drawing  in  the  morning ;  in  the 
afternoon  the  scene  changes,  there  are  billiards,  looking 
over  prints,  coffee,  tea,  and  by  way  of  interlude,  pretty 
Lady  Betty  comes  upon  the  stage,  and  I  can  play  as  well 
at  bo-peep  as  if  I  had  a  nursery  of  my  own.  She  is  the 
best-humoured  little  dear  that  ever  I  met  with.  .  .  .' 

At  Bulstrode  Mrs.  Pendarves's  literary  and  artistic  tastes 
met  with  sympathy  and  encouragement,  and  we  even  find  her 
working  at  astronomy,  a  study  which,  knowing  the  light 
102 


MRS.  DELANY 

in  which  a  learned  lady  was  regarded  by  her  contem- 
poraries, she  was  especially  anxious  to  pursue  in  private. 
But  her  secret  was  discovered  by  a  member  of  that  sex  which 
was  then  so  desperately  jealous  of  any  mental  cultivation  in 
a  '  female,1  whose  sphere  in  life,  it  held,  should  be  bounded 
by  the  nursery  and  the  store-room.  '  This  morning,'  writes 
Mary,  *  as  my  master  and  I  were  drawing  and  examining 
circles,  who  should  come  in  but  Mr.  Robert  Harley.  I 
blushed  and  looked  excessive  silly  to  be  caught  in  the 
fact;  but  the  affair,  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  keep 
secret,  is  discovered,  and  I  must  bear  the  reflection  of 
those  who  think  me  very  presuming  in  attempting  to  be 
wise.  I  shall  never  aim  at  talking  upon  subjects  of  that 
kind,  but  the  little  I  gain  by  these  lectures  will  make  me 
take  far  more  pleasure  in  hearing  others  talk.1 

In  December,  Mrs.  Pendarves  was  in  great  distress  for 
her  young  friend,  Lady  Weymouth,  whose  marriage  she 
had  been  instrumental  in  bringing  about.  'My  Lady 
Weymouth  continues  extremely  ill,1  she  writes  to  her 
sister.  'She  has  not  had  since  this  day  se'night  three 
hours1  sleep,  and  she  has  been  the  greater  part  of  that 
time  delirious.  So  melancholy  a  house  I  never  saw,  and 
poor  Lady  Carteret  is  to  be  pitied.  I  go  to  them  every 
day,  and  think  I  am  some  comfort  to  them.  Last  night 
I  was  in  hopes  I  might  have  burned  this  letter,  Lady 
Weymouth  mended  so  much,  but  her  fever  returned  at 
twelve  last  night.  I  prayed  for  her  most  heartily  this 
morning  at  early  church,  but  God  Almighty  designs  her 
for  a  happier  place.  She  has  discharged  all  her  social 
duties  with  great  honour,  and  I  believe  her  to  be  an 
innocent  well-disposed  creature.  I  own  I  did  not  know 
I  loved  her  so  well  as  I  do.  .  .  .  Poor  Lady  Weymouth  is 
gone;  she  died  at  half  an  hour  after  five.  I  can  add  no  more.1 

103 


MRS.  DELANY 

Then  comes  Lady  Elizabeth,  Lady  Harriet,  and  the  noble 
Marquis ;  after  half  an  hour's  jumping  they  are  dismissed, 
and  we  soberly  say,  "  Now,  we  will  write  our  letters."  In 
comes  the  Duke,  "The  tea  stays  for  the  ladies";  well,  we 
must  go,  for  there's  no  living  at  Bulstrode  withoutfour  meals 
a  day.  Then  when  the  beaux  esprits  are  met,  the  fumes  of 
inspiring  tea  begin  to  operate  till  eight  of  the  clock  strikes ; 
then  I  start  up,  run  away,  and  here  I  am  brimful  of  a  thou- 
sand things  to  say  to  you,  but  have  no  time  to  write  them.'1 

From  time  to  time  curious  and  minute  particulars  are 
given  about  the  finery  and  fashions  of  the  period.  For 
example,  we  read  that  in  January  1739  hoops  are  made 
of  the  richest  damask,  trimmed  with  gold  and  silver,  and 
cost  fourteen  guineas  a  hoop.  At  the  Court  ball  held  in 
honour  of  the  Prince  of  Wales'1  birthday,  Lady  Hunting- 
don's l  costume  was  the  most  remarkable,  as  may  readily  be 
believed  from  the  following  description : — 

'Her  petticoat  was  of  black  velvet  embroidered  with 
chenille,  the  pattern  a  large  stone  vase  filled  with  ramping 
flowers  that  spread  almost  over  a  breadth  of  the  petticoat 
from  the  bottom  to  the  top ;  between  each  vase  of  flowers 
was  a  pattern  of  gold  shells  and  foliage  embossed  and 
most  heavily  rich.  The  gown  was  white  satin  embroidered 
also  with  chenille  mixed  with  gold,  no  vase  on  the  sleeve, 
but  two  or  three  on  the  tail;  it  was  a  most  laboured 
piece  of  finery,  the  pattern  much  properer  for  a  stucco 
staircase  than  the  apparel  of  a  lady.1 

At  another  Court  entertainment  we  hear  that  Mary's 
former  lover,  Lord  Baltimore,  was  in  light  brown  and 
silver,  his  coat  lined  quite  throughout  with  ermine.  Also, 
that  'his  lady  looked  like  a  frightened  owl,  her  locks 
strutted  out,  and  most  furiously  greased,  or  rather  gummed 
1  Selina,  afterwards  celebrated  as  the  foundress  of  a  Methodist  sect. 

106 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  powdered.1  There  is  a  touch  of  malice  in  the  last 
sentence,  which  is  natural  enough  in  the  circumstances, 
and  shows  that  though  the  writer's  heart  may  have 
recovered  from  Lord  Baltimore's  defection,  there  was 
still  a  little  wound  left  in  her  vanity. 

In  August  the  illness  of  the  Duchess  of  Portland  after 
the  birth  of  a  child  caused  all  her  friends  great  anxiety 
and  alarm.  The  details  given  of  her  medical  treatment 
make  it  seem  almost  miraculous  that  she  recovered.  On 
August  15  Anne  Granville,  who  was  staying  with  her 
sister,  writes  to  Lady  Throckmorton  (nee  Collingwood) : 
'  For  fear  my  dear  Colly  should  see  in  the  newspapers  an 
account  of  the  Duchess  of  Portland,  and  be  alarmed,  I 
write  to  let  her  know  really  how  she  is.  Doctor  Sands 
says  there  is  no  danger,  but  she  has  fever,  is  reduced 

extremely  low  and  weak,  and  had  a  blister  put  on  to-day 

'  Aug.  18,  1739. 

°Tis  the  will  of  heaven,  my  dearest  Colly,  that  we 
must  resign  our  most  amiable  Duchess !  My  sister 
and  I  were  at  Whitehall  yesterday  morning.  The 
Duchess's  fever  was  then  as  high  as  ever,  nor  has  there 
been  any  intermission  for  thirty  days.  Dr.  Sands  insisted 
on  a  consultation ;  Mead  came,  and  only  confirmed  Sands'1 
prescription,  which  was  a  blister  on  each  arm,  and  a 
vomit !  Last  night  we  heard  she  was  worse;  this  morning 
Sands  gives  her  over,  and  poor  Richard  sent  us  the  message 
that  they  "only  expected  the  great  change.""  My  poor 
Penny  is  inconsolate.  The  poor  Duke  is  truly  sensible  of 
his  irreparable  loss. 

'  Saturday  Night. 

'  I  am  this  moment  come  from  Whitehall.    The  Duchess 
is  better,  and  they  have  great  hopes  of  her  being  able  to 
truggle  through  it."1 

107 


MRS.  DELANY 

'Aug.  22nd. 

6  With  the  greatest  joy  imaginable,  I  can  assure  my  dear 
Lady  Throck,  that  our  dear  Duchess  is  out  of  danger. 
You  may  guess  the  happiness  this  recovery  gives  to  Lord 
and  Lady  Oxford,  who  were  in  the  deepest  affliction,  and 
the  Duke  has  shown  himself  very  sensible  of  the  blessing 
he  enjoys  in  so  excellent  a  creature.  .  .  .^ 

The  winter  seems  to  have  been  spent  in  the  usual 
fashion,  including  a  visit  to  Bulstrode,  and  attendances 
at  Court,  and  recreations  in  the  shape  of  plays  and 
oratorios.  In  November  Mary  writes  to  Lady  Throck- 
morton  :  '  Our  dear  charming  Duchess  is  as  well  as  you 
can  wish  to  have  her — good  looks,  good  spirits,  and 
every  good  belonging  to  her  that  mortal  woman  can  be 
possessed  of.  ...  As  for  news,  I  know  of  none :  war  is 
talked  of  in  all  companies,  but  my  disposition  always  in- 
clines me  to  wish  for  peace.  I  tremble  at  the  thought 
of  a  battle,  and  for  the  many  lives  hazarded  for  our  ill- 
conduct  and  ambition — but  this  is  being  a  mere  stupid 
woman  !  The  concerts  begin  next  Saturday  at  the  Hay- 
market.  Caristini  sings,  Peschetti  composes;  the  house 
is  made  up  into  little  boxes,  like  the  playhouses  abroad.' 

The  great  event  of  the  year  1740  was  the  marriage  of 
Anne  Granville  to  John  Dewes,  the  younger  son  of  Court 
Dewes  of  Maplebury.  The  way  in  which  the  affair  was 
brought  about  is  a  curious  example  of  the  unromantic 
nature  of  matrimonial  arrangements  in  the  eighteenth 
century.  Anne,  warned  perhaps  by  her  sister's  sufferings,  had 
always  regarded  worth  of  character  as  the  first  essential  in 
a  husband,  and  in  her  youthful  days  had  rejected  numerous 
suitors  because  their  principles  were  not  equal  to  their 
fortunes.  At  thirty-five,  however,  she  seems  to  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  marriage,  and  a  house  of  her 
108 


tj, 


MRS    DELANY 

own,  would  be  more  for  her  advantage  and  happiness  than 
a  single  life.  Mr.  Dewes,  with  whom  she  had  no  ac- 
quaintance, was  recommended  to  her  by  a  third  person 
as  a  worthy  man  of  good  family  though  moderate  fortune. 
A  letter  has  been  preserved  from  Anne  to  Lady  Throck- 
morton  begging  to  know  her  real  opinion  of  Mr.  Dewes. 

'  There  is  a  person  he  is  recommended  to,1  she  proceeds, 
'  but  she  is  quite  a  stranger  to  him,  and  is  my  friend,  and 
therefore  I  make  an  inquiry  about  him,  but  I  must  en- 
treat that  not  a  word  of  it  be  mentioned  to  anybody, 
because  the  thing  is  an  entire  secret.  The  person  I  speak 
of  has  no  notion  of  happiness  in  a  married  life  but  what 
must  proceed  from  an  equality  of  sentiments  and  mutual 
good  opinion ;  and  therefore  she  would  be  glad  to  know 
if  Mr.  D has  agreeable  conversation,  generous  prin- 
ciples, and  is  not  a  lawyer  in  his  manners.' 

Lady  Throckmorton  appears  to  have  seen  through  the 
transparent  fiction  of  the '  friend, '  for  in  her  next  letter  Anne 
admits  that  her  guess  was  right,  and  adds  that '  the  parties 
are  to  meet  in  about  a  fortnight  to  see  if  they  like  well 
enough  on  each  side  to  permit  any  procedure  in  the  affair, 
and  their  friends  will  be  consulted,  and  they  will  consider 
all  particulars.1  In  a  postscript  she  begs  that  Lady  Throck- 
morton will  not  mention  to  Mrs.  Pendarves  the  subject  of 
their  correspondence.  It  was  evident  that  Mary  was  to 
be  kept  in  the  dark  till  matters  were  finally  settled,  partly 
perhaps  on  account  of  her  anti-matrimonial  prejudices, 
partly  because  she  might  not  consider  Mr.  Dewes  a 
sufficiently  good  match  for  her  sister.  The  negotiations 
proved  successful,  and  towards  the  end  of  April  Mrs. 
Pendarves  was  let  into  the '  secret.  She  writes  to  Anne 
on  April  22,  1740,  in  sober  and  uneffusive  style  : — 

4  Your  letter  to  my  brother  has  cheered  my  spirits  a 

109 


MRS.  DELANY 

good  deal.  I  think  Mr.  Dewes  behaves  himself  like  a 
man  of  sense,  and  with  a  regard  for.  you  .which  must 
recommend  him  to  all  your  friends.  My  brother  and 
myself  will  receive  him  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure 
as  soon  as  his  business  permits  him  to  come  to  us.  As 
soon  as  we  have  met,  and  he  has  settled  with  my  brother, 
then  we  may  proceed  to  particulars,  buying  wedding- 
clothes,  and  determining  where  the  ceremony  is  to  be. 
.  .  .  Last  Saturday  I  went  a  most  notable  expedition. 
We  set  out,  two  hackney-coaches  full,  from  Whitehall  at 
ten.  Our  first  show  was  the  wild  beasts  in  Covent 
Garden;  from  thence  to  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital — 
the  staircase  painted  by  Hogarth ;  from  there  to 
Faulkner's,  the  famous  lapidary,  where  we  saw  abundance 
of  fine  things,  and  the  manner  of  cutting  and  polishing 
pebbles,  etc. ;  then  to  Surgeon's  Hall  to  see  the  famous 
picture  by  Holbein  of  Harry  the  Eighth,  with  above  a 
dozen  figures  in  it,  all  portraits ;  then  to  the  Tower  and 
Mint — the  assaying  of  the  gold  and  silver  is  very  curious ; 
saw  lions,  porcupines,  armour  and  arms  in  abundance; 
from  thence  to  Pontach's  to  a  very  good  dinner,  and  then 
proceeded  to  the  round  church  in  Stocks  Market,  a  most 
beautiful  building.' 

The  marriage  took  place  in  August  1740,  and  the  pair 
established  themselves  in  a  small  country-house  at  Bradley 
in  Gloucestershire.  Mr.  Dewes  is  described  in  the  various 
family  letters  that  relate  to  this  period  as  a  man  of  good 
sense,  good  nature,  and  general  worth  of  character. 
Although  for  some  years  his  means  were  narrow,  the 
marriage  seems  to  have  been  a  happy  one,  in  a  calm 
unromantic  sort  of  fashion.  Anne,  writing  to  Lady 
Throckmorton  shortly  after  the  wedding,  expresses  herself 
with  all  the  philosophical  common-sense  of  her  period  : — 
110 


MRS.  DELANY 

'  I  have  got  nothing  in  that  state  you  seem  so  glad  to 
see  me  come  into,  but  what  gives  me  a  fair  prospect  of 
happiness,  and  though  our  cot  between  two  oaks  yields 
nothing  fine,  it  affords  content,  and  will  always  do  so  as 
long  as  affection  remains  in  the  inhabitants,  and  supplies 
the  place  of  great  apartments,  equipages,  and  state, 
though  when  they  are  all  joined  together,  as  at  Weston, 
it  is  very  charming  indeed.  But  alas !  how  rare !  and  I 
can't  help  thinking  that  there  is  for  the  generality  more 
happiness  in  a  middling  than  in  a  great  fortune,  and  it  is 
very  proper  for  me  to  be  of  that  opinion  now,  as  Mr. 
Dewes's  fortune  is  moderate,  but  his  qualities  are  ex- 
tremely good,  which  are  to  be  preferred  to  riches,  and 
I  had  no  pretence  to  expect  both.1 

Mrs.  Pendarves  seems  to  have  divided  her  time  this  year 
between  her  mother,  her  sister,  and  her  friend  at  Bulstrode. 

It  was  in  November  1740  that  the  Duchess  of  Port- 
land's little  daughter,  Lady  Elizabeth  Cavendish  Bentinck 
(then  about  five  years  old),  wrote  the '  following  note  to 
Mrs.  Dewes,  which  is  worth  transcribing,  because  thereby 
hangs  a  tale : — 

'DEAR  PIP, — I  love  you  with  all  my  heart.  Mrs. 
Elstob  [the  governess]  gives  her  service  to  you.  I  thank 
you  for  the  pretty  letter  you  sent  me  by  Penny.  I  learn 
very  well  the  Common  Prayer  Book  and  Bible,  and  have 
almost  got  by  heart  the  "Turtle  and  Sparrow."  Papa  and 
mama's  best  compliments  to  you.  I  have  learnt  "  Molly 
Mog  of  the  Rose,"  and  am  learning  now  the  English 
Grammar.  I  should  be  very  glad  to  see  you,  and  am, 
my  dear  Pip,  your  affectionate  friend, 

'  ELIZABETH  CAVENDISH  BENTINCK.' 

Among   Lady  Llanover's   papers  is  a  letter  from  Sir 

111 


MRS.  DELANY 

William  Watkins  Wynn  enclosing  a  cutting  of  a 
paragraph  which  he  had  contributed  to  the  Cambrian 
News  on  January  14,  1880.  After  quoting  the  above 
note  to  '  dear  Pip '  from  the  Delany  correspondence,  Sir 
William  proceeds:  'About  the  year  1823,  I  went  to 
breakfast  at  the  house  of  the  above  lady  [Lady  Elizabeth]. 
She  was  then  Marchioness-Dowager  of  Bath,  and  lived  in 
Charles  Street  or  Hill  Street — I  think  the  former.  Of  the 
party  were  two  of  Lady  Bath's  nieces,  the  Misses  Cotes,  and 
a  Miss  Arbuthnot.  After  breakfast  we  went  to  a  review  in 
Hyde  Park,  where  in  the  crowd  Miss  Arbuthnot  lost  her 
shoe,  for  which  we  had  a  difficult  search.  We  afterwards 
adjourned  to  Lady  Stamford's,  Lady  Bath's  sister,  for 
luncheon.  So  I,  who  am  alive  and  in  health  on  Jan.  2, 
1880,  visited  at  the  house  of  a  lady  who  wrote  a  letter  on 
the  23rd  of  November,  1740.  W.' 

One  of  Mrs.  Pendarves's  fellow-guests  at  Bulstrode  was 
Miss  Robinson,  afterwards  the  celebrated  wit  and  blue- 
stocking, Mrs.  Edward  Montagu.  This  lady,  writing  to  Mrs. 
Dormellan  in  December,  says  :  '  Madame  Pen.  [Pendarves] 
is  copying  Sacharissa's  portrait  from  Vandyck,  and  does 
it  with  that  felicity  of  genius  that  attends  her  in  all  her 
performances.  I  believe,  could  Waller  see  it,  he  would 
begin  to  make  new  verses  on  her,  and  ask  of  the  picture, 
as  he  does  of  the  image  of  his  dream — 

(t  Where  could'st  thou  find 
Shades  to  counterfeit  that  face?" 

In  the  same  month  Mrs.  Pendarves  writes  to  Lady 
Throckmorton  that  she  cannot  attempt  to  describe  the 
variety  of  scenes  she  has  passed  through  during  a  year  of 
extraordinary  hurry,  and  adds,  'But  to  crown  all  my 
toils,  /  hope  I  may  "venture  to  say  I  do  think  my  sister 
112 


MRS.  DELANY 

happily  settled.  You  that  have  a  tender  heart  can  easily 
guess  what  agitation  of  spirits  I  have  been  under,  for 
marriage  is  serious  and  hazardous,  and  you  know  what 
my  fondness  is  for  my  sister.  You  say  very  right,  I  am 
extremely  happy  at  Bulstrode,  and  'tis  Bulstrode  alone 
that  could  make  me  cheerful  and  easy  when  I  am  parted 
from  my  sister.  But  as  our  joys  circulate  very  fast,  mine 
will  ebb  as  well  as  flow,  and  London,  odious  London, 
will  rob  me  of  the  delight  I  now  enjoy.  That  little 
exclamation  against  the  metropolis  is  entre  nous,  for  I 
would  not  openly  declare  my  thoughts  on  that  subject 
for  fear  of  being  hissed  off  the  stage  as  soon  as  I  made 
my  appearance  again.  I  hear  what  would  be  whispered 
about  me  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders  :  "  Ten  years  ago 
she  was  of  another  mind — you  may  see  the  reason  plainly 
in  her  face.11 ' 

In  Mary's  letters  to  her  sister  at  this  time  there  are 
one  or  two  amusing  literary  allusions,  of  which  the 
following  examples  may  be  given  : — 

'  I  am  just  come  from  the  tea-table,  where  we  have  had 
a  warm  dispute,  occasioned  by  Madame  de  Sevigne's  letters, 
which  one  of  the  company  said  were  very  fulsome,  and 
wanted  variety  of  expression  to  make  them  agreeable, 
and  that  a  very  sincere,  affectionate  person  could  never 
be  at  a  loss  for  a  new  thought  on  such  a  subject  as  friend- 
ship. If  they  were,  it  was  a  mark  that  their  friendship 
was  not  very  warm.  The  lady  that  started  the  dispute 
would  not  yield  the  point,  but  maintained  the  heart 
might  be  very  warm  though  the  imagination  was  not 
very  bright.  Another  lady  said  that  was  her  opinion 
too,  and  that  words  may  be  wanting  where  love  is  not ; 
upon  which  says  a  wise  philosopher  in  company,  "  What 
need  you  to  be  in  a  fuss  about  sweet  words?  Cannot 
H  113 


MRS.  DELANY 

you  say  *  my  syrup  of  violets,'  or  '  my  syrup  of  cowslips '  ?  " 
This  turned  the  disputant  spirit  into  a  loud  laugh,  dis- 
persed the  company,  and  gives  me  an  opportunity  of 
flying  to  her  for  whom  no  expressions  can  be  too  kind  to 
do  justice  to  her  merit  and  my  love.  .  .  . 

*  We  have  begun  Pamela,  but  I  will  not  say  anything  of 
it  till  you  give  me  your  opinion.  By  the  time  it  comes  to 
you,  I  suppose  you  and  my  good  brother-in-law  may  have 
chatted  over  all  the  transactions  that  have  passed  during 
your  separation,  and  may  be  glad  to  read  a  new  book 
for  variety.  ...  I  hear  a  monument  is  now  putting  up 
for  Shakespeare  in  Westminster  Abbey.  Many  Latin 
inscriptions  have  been  offered  to  adorn  the  same,  and  set 
forth  his  worth,  and  one  was  sent  to  Pope  for  his  appro- 
bation ;  the  sense  of  it  meant,  that  after  many  years" 
neglect  Shakespeare  appeared  with  general  acclamation. 
Mr.  Pope  could  not  very  well  make  out  the  meaning,  and 
enclosed  it  to  Dr.  Mead  with  the  following  translation  : 

'  "  After  an  hundred  and  thirty  years'  nap, 
Enter  Shakespeare  with  a  loud  clap." 

I  will,  if  I  have  time  to  copy  it  out,  enclose  you  a  copy 
of  verses  of  his  that  I  believe  have  not  come  into  your 
hands,  but  there  is  a  line  or  two  I  think  had  better  have 
been  omitted.  I  wish  poets  would  be  more  delicate,  or 
at  least  have  some  respect  for  those  that  are  so.1 

With  the  new  year  Mrs.  Pendarves  was  back  in  town, 
and  disporting  herself  at  Norfolk  House,  which  was  then 
inhabited  by  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales.  As  usual, 
she  gives  her  sister  an  account  of  the  fine  toilets  she 
sees,  and  her  description  of  the  Duchess  of  Queensberry's 
clothes  is  worth  transcribing  as  a  veritable  curiosity  in 
millinery.  'They  were  white  satin  embroidered,  the 
114 


MRS.  DELANY 

bottom  of  the  petticoat  brown  hills  covered  with  all  sorts 
of  weeds,  and  every  breadth  had  an  old  stump  of  a  tree, 
that  ran  up  almost  to  the  top  of  the  petticoat,  broken 
and  ragged,  and  worked  with  brown  chenille,  round  which 
twined  nasturtiums,  ivy,  honeysuckles,  periwinkles,  and  all 
sorts  of  twining  flowers,  which  spread  and  covered  the 
petticoat;  vines  with  the  leaves  variegated  as  you  have 
seen  them  by  the  sun,  all  rather  smaller  than  nature, 
which  made  them  look  very  light;  the  robings  and 
facings  were  little  green  banks  covered  with  all  sorts  of 
weeds,  and  the  sleeves  and  the  rest  of  the  gown  loose 
twining  branches  of  the  same  sort  as  those  on  the  petti- 
coat. Many  of  the  leaves  were  finished  with  gold,  and 
part  of  the  stumps  of  the  trees  looked  like  the  gilding  of 
the  sun.  I  never  saw  a  piece  of  work  so  prettily  fancied, 
and  am  quite  angry  with  myself  for  not  having  the  same 
thought,  for  it  is  infinitely  handsomer  than  mine,  and 
could  not  have  cost  much  more? 


115 


CHAPTER  VIII 

(1741-1744) 

THE  chief  event  of  the  summer  of  1741  was  the  birth  of 
a  son  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dewes.  Mary  naturally  felt  the 
deepest  interest  in  the  new  arrival,  and  took  an  active 
part  in  the  preparations  for  his  advent.  In  April  she 
writes  to  her  sister,  '  I  have  had  no  trouble  about  any 
of  your  affairs,  but  much  pleasure ;  I  shall  send  the  box 
this  week,  but  cannot  get  the  Cicero  for  you.  The  band- 
box, basket,  and  pincushion  you  must  be  so  good  as  to 
accept  from  me.  I  will  keep  myself  perfectly  informed 
of  the  new  dress  for  the  bantling,  that  I  may  instruct  you 
when  I  come  to  Gloucester.  I  suppose  you  will  have  the 
cradle  lined  with  dimity  or  white  satin  quilted ;  I  think 
you  must  pay  the  compliment  to  Gloucester  of  buying 
your  pins  there  .  .  .' 

Anne  writes  a  pretty  letter  of  thanks  in  which  she 
congratulates  her  sister  upon  her  arrival  at  Northend, 
'  the  seat  of  delight,'  and  goes  on, '  But  you  cany  delight 
with  you,  and  then  fancy  you  find  it  there. 

' "  Dame  of  the  ruddy  cheek  and  laughing  eye, 

From  whose  bright  presence  crowds  of  sorrows  fly." 

Health,  content,  and  every  blessing  attend  you,  for  you 
were  certainly  born  to  cheer  as  well  as  charm  all  your 
friends.  ...  I   should   have   begun   by  answering  your 
116 


MRS.  DELANY 

kind  packet  of  the  23rd,  where  you  give  so  exact  an 
account  of  all  the  trouble  you  have  had  about  my  affairs, 
which  I  am  sure  are  all  done  to  perfection.  There  is  but 
one  thing  I  can  complain  of,  and  that  is  the  bandbox  and 
the  basket.  How,  my  dearest  sister,  can  I  want  any  new 
proofs  of  your  love  when  I  have  so  many  already  grafted 
into  my  heart  ?  .  .  .  No  mortal  could  describe  the  pleasures 
of  the  country  as  you  do,  did  they  not  feel  them  ex- 
quisitely; but  in  your  bower  you  have  art  joined  to 
nature  to  make  it  beyond  compare.  Here  we  are  all 
wildness,  though  not  without  our  beauties ;  and  though 
no  nightingales  reach  our  peaceful  groves,  they  want  not 
harmony,  such  as  larks,  blackbirds,  and  goldfinches.  Our 
hedges  and  fields  are  verdant,  and  the  apple  and  pear- 
trees  make  a  very  gaudy  appearance.  I  want  to  send  you 
some  of  our  jocund  lambs — they  raise  our  spirits  by  their 
innocent  liveliness.  The  cow  is  grown  an  absolute  beauty, 
and  is  more  worthy  now  of  the  honour  of  your  pencil 
than  when  you  drew  her  picture.  Our  grounds  are 
covered  with  cowslips,  and,  in  short,  we  have  more  spring 
and  freshness  than  could  be  expected  from  so  dry  a 
season.  But  I  cannot  enjoy  our  solitude  so  much  as  if 
I  were  as  nimble  as  usual,  and  when  Mr.  Dewes  leaves 
me,  who  is  so  kind  as  to  lead  me  through  all  the  pleasant 
easy  walks,  and  who  enjoys  every  field  and  every  tree  as 
I  do,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  sit  still.1 

It  certainly  was  no  more  than  true  that  Mrs.  Pendarves 
was  a  comfort  as  well  as  a  charm  to  her  friends,  since  she 
always  seems  to  have  been  sent  for  in  sickness  or  affliction. 
Writing  to  Mrs.  Dewes  on  June  18,  1742,  she  says :  *  I 
was  transported  with  pleasure  at  receiving  so  lively  an 
account  of  yourself  as  your  last  letter  gave  me ;  I  wanted 
such  a  cordial  last  night,  for  I  had  spent  four  hours  in  a 

117 


MRS.  DELANY 

melancholy  way  with  our  amiable  duchess,  who  is  under 
great  affliction  for  my  Lord  Oxford  [her  father].  He 
was  taken  ill  on  Saturday  night:  one  of  his  legs  has 
mortified.  He  is  in  no  pain  at  present,  and  will  soon  be 
quite  at  rest.  His  daughter,  who  has,  joined  to  the  most 
lively  sensibility,  great  gratitude  and  affection  for  him 
and  my  Lady  Oxford,  suffers  a  great  deal  now,  and  you 
may  think  I  shall  not  leave  her  till  her  spirits  are  com- 
posed. My  Lord  Oxford  has  of  late  been  so  entirely 
given  up  to  drinking,  that  his  life  has  been  no  pleasure 
to  him  nor  satisfaction  to  his  friends ;  my  Lady  Oxford 
never  leaves  his  bedside,  and  is  in  great  trouble.  The 
scene  is  painful  to  all  his  friends,  but  he  has  sense  and 
goodness  of  heart,  and  I  hope  proper  reflections  on  this 
great  occasion,  and  when  the  first  shock  is  over,  there 
are  circumstances  that  must  be  an  alleviation  to  his  woes. 
He  has  had  no  enjoyment  of  the  world  since  his  mis- 
management of  his  affairs  :  it  has  hurt  his  body  and  mind, 
and  hastened  death.  Pray  God  preserve  us  from  too 
great  anxiety  for  worldly  affairs.' 

To  the  year  1742  belongs  a  composition  called 
Aspasuts  Portrait,  drawn  by  'Philomel.'  This  is  a 
description  of  Mrs.  Pendarves  by  Mrs.  Donnellan,  written 
for  the  Duchess  of  Portland.  Partial  as  the  portrait 
probably  is,  a  few  extracts  from  it  will  give  some  idea  of 
the  original  as  she  appeared  in  the  eyes  of  her  most  inti- 
mate friends.  '  You  know,  madam,'  begins  this  quaint 

composition,  'that  Mrs.  P is  of  a  most  agreeable 

figure,  and  you  may  believe  that  (as  it  is  above  twenty 
years  since  she  was  married)  the  bloom  she  still  enjoys, 
the  shining  delicacy  of  her  hair,  the  sweetness  of  her 
smile,  the  pleasing  air  of  her  whole  countenance,  must 
have  made  her  the  desire  of  all  who  saw  her,  and  her 
118 


MRS.  DELANY 

situation  (as  a  widow)  must  have  given  hopes  to  all.  She 
was  married  extremely  young  to  a  man  who,  neither  by 
his  years,  behaviour,  nor  any  other  quality,  was  fitted  to 
gain  her  affection ;  she  had  naturally  a  great  deal  of 
vivacity  and  liveliness  of  temper,  with  the  greatest  sensi- 
bility and  tenderness  of  heart.  Some  of  her  nearest 
relations  were  ever  ready  to  have  encouraged  her  in  any 
tendency  towards  gaiety.  What  could  have  guarded  her 
in  these  dangerous  circumstances  ?  An  innate  modesty, 
an  early  prudence,  and  a  disarming  judgment  to  know 
what  was  right,  with  virtue,  and  only  to  follow  what  her 
judgment  approved — these  were  the  qualities  that  have 
carried  her  through  the  gayest  companies,  the  most 
dangerous  scenes,  with  an  unsullied  fame,  and  have  made 
even  those  who  would  have  undermined  her  virtue  pay 
homage  to  it.  ... 

4 1  am  at  a  loss  what  terms  to  find  strong  enough  to 
express  her  general  benevolence  or  her  particular  tender- 
ness. .  .  .  As  her  generosity  to  her  friends  flows  from 
her  benevolence,  so  does  her  charity  both  to  the  wants 
and  character  of  her  fellow-creatures  :  the  first  she  relieves 
with  a  bounty  above  her  circumstances,  and  the  latter  she 
defends  (when  decency  will  permit)  with  a  zeal  equal  to 
the  amiable  principle  whence  it  proceeds.  She  does  not 
think  that  being  perfect  herself  gives  her  a  title  to 
animadvert  on  the  faults  or  laugh  at  the  follies  of  those 
less  worthy,  but  would  rather  choose  to  seem  to  want  pene- 
tration to  find  out  the  first,  or  wit  to  ridicule  the  latter, 
than  to  hurt  those  who  can  make  no  reprisals  on  her.  .  .  . 

'To  this  imperfect  sketch  of  her  mind  I  must  add 
something  on  her  many  accomplishments  and  her  great 
ingenuity ;  and  here  we  should  wonder  how  she  has  found 
time  to  make  herself  mistress  of  so  many  ingenious  arts, 

119 


MRS.  DELANY 

if  we  did  not  consider  that  dress  and  the  adorning  of  the 
person,  that  takes  up  so  great  a  part  of  that  of  most  of 
her  sex,  only  employs  so  much  of  hers  as  the  exactest 
neatness  requires,  and  that  she  has  an  activity  of  mind 
that  never  lets  her  be  idle,  so  all  her  hours  are  spent 
either  in  something  useful  or  amusing.  She  reads  to 
improve  her  mind,  not  to  make  an  appearance  of  being 
learned;  she  writes  with  all  the  delicacy  and  ease  of  a 
woman,  and  the  strength  and  exactness  of  a  man ;  she 
paints,  and  takes  views  of  what  is  either  beautiful  or 
whimsical  in  nature,  with  a  surprising  genius  and  art. 
She  is  mistress  of  the  harpsichord,  and  has  a  brilliancy  in 
her  playing  peculiar  to  herself;  she  does  a  number  of 
works,  and  of  many  of  them  is  the  inventor,  and  all  her 
acquaintance  are  her  copyers — happy  for  them  if  they 
would  equally  endeavour  to  imitate  her  virtues.  .  .  . 

'  I  could  enlarge  on  all  these  particulars  much  more, 
but  I  consider  I  detain  you  too  long  from  the  pleasing 
entertainment  of  observing  the  actions  of  one  whose  whole 
life  will  better  show  you  that  charity  and  benevolence 
have  been  the  gales  that  have  filled  the  sails,  and  judg- 
ment and  prudence  the  pilots  that  have  shaped  her  course.' 

The  long-standing  acquaintance  between  Mrs.  Pen- 
darves  and  the  *  Queen  of  the  Blue-stockings,1  Mrs.  Edward 
Montagu,  seems  to  have  ripened  into  a  more  intimate 
friendship  about  this  time.  In  September  1742  Mrs. 
Montagu  writes  a  rather  extravagant  epistle,  which  is 
apparently  in  answer  to  a  more  formal  one  of  Mrs. 
Pendarves.  '  Madam,1  observes  the  learned  lady,  *  cer- 
tainly makes  a  magnificent  figure  at  the  beginning  of 
a  letter,  and  "  Devoted  humble  servant "  brings  matters 
to  a  polite  conclusion;  but "  Friend  "  and  "  Fidget "  sound 
more  affectionately  and  much  better  from  my  dear  Mrs. 
120 


MRS.  DELANY 

i 

Pendarves,  though  with  some  people  I  would  be  "Madam,1' 
"  Honoured  Madam,"  "  Your  Reverence,"  or  anything  that 
assured  me  they  would  treat  me  with  the  most  distant 
[respect  they  could;  but  ceremony  is  the  tribute  of 
civility,  not  of  ^friendship.  .  .  .  We  are  reading  Sir 
Philip  Sidney's  famous  romance,  which  is  far  exceeding 
the  exceedingness  of  the  most  exceeding  imagination ; 
.  .  .  Seriously,  it  is  a  pity  that  two  such  excellent 
geniuses  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  day  as  Spenser  and  Sir 
Philip  should  write  of  only  such  feigned  and  imaginary 
beings  as  fairies  and  lovers;  now  that  the  world  is  not 
superstitious  and  credulous,  such  personages  are  not  so 
well  received  as  they  used  to  be.' 

It  appears  from  the  correspondence,  that  in  the  autumn 
of  this  year  Mrs.  Pendarves  had  determined  to  apply  for  a 
place  at  Court,  and  that  interest  was  being  made  for  her 
through  her  powerful  friends.  The  Duchess  of  Portland  is 
annoyed  that  Lord  Carteret  does  not  show  more  energy 
in  taking  up  his  cousin's  cause,  and  recommends  that 
Mary  should  ask  help  and  counsel  of  Lord  Baltimore, 
who  had  considerable  influence  at  Court.  The  affair 
dragged  on,  however,  and  by  April  of  the  following  year 
nothing  had  been  settled.  In  this  month  an  unexpected 
incident  occurred  which  altered  all  the  lady's  plans,  and 
marked  the  beginning  of  a  new  period  in  her  history. 
On  April  23,  1743,  Mary  writes  to  her  sister  in  rather 
a  desponding  strain  because  her  friends  have  taken  no 
steps  to  help  her  to  obtain  the  much-desired  place  at 
Court.  On  the  very  same  day  a  letter  containing  an  offer 
of  marriage  was  being  written  to  her  by  her  old  friend 
Dr.  Delany,  who  had  lost  his  first  wife  about  eighteen 
months  before.  The  letter  is  interesting  as  a  specimen  of 
the  method  in  which  a  sensible,  straightforward  man  who 

121 


MRS.  DELANY 

had  already  passed  middle  age,  made  an  offer  of  his  hand 
and  heart  a  century  and  a  half  ago.  The  document,  which 
was  written  at  Dunstable,  begins : — 

'  MADAM, — I  am  thus  far  on  my  way  to  visit  my  friends 
in  London.  You,  madam,  are  not  a  stranger  to  my 
present  unhappy  situation,  and  that  it  pleased  God  to 
desolate  my  dwelling.  I  flatter  myself  that  I  have  still 
a  heart  turned  to  social  delights,  and  not  estranged  either 
from  the  tenderness  of  true  affection  or  the  refinement 
of  friendship.  I  feel  a  sad  void  in  my  breast,  and  am 
reduced  to  the  necessity  of  wishing  to  fill  it.  I  have  lost 
a  friend  that  was  as  my  own  soul,  and  nothing  is  more 
natural  than  to  desire  to  supply  that  loss  by  the  person 
in  the  world  that  friend  most  esteemed  and  honoured ; 
and  as  I  have  long  been  persuaded  that  perfect  friendship 
is  nowhere  to  be  found  but  in  marriage,  I  wish  to  perfect 
mine  in  that  state.  I  know  it  is  late  in  life  to  think  of 
engaging  anew  in  that  state,  in  the  beginning  of  my  fifty- 
ninth  year.  I  am  old,  and  I  appear  older  than  I  am ; 
but,  thank  God,  I  am  still  in  health,  though  not  bettered 
by  years;  and  however  the  vigour  of  my  years  may  be 
over,  and  with  that  the  vigour  of  vanity  and  the  flutter  of 
passion,  I  find  myself  not  less  fitted  for  all  that  is  solid 
happiness  in  the  wedded  state — the  tenderness  of  affection 
and  the  faith  of  friendship. 

'I  have  a  good  clear  income  for  my  life,  a  trifle  to 
settle,  which  I  am  ashamed  to  offer,  a  good  house  (as 
houses  go  in  our  part  of  the  world)  moderately  furnished, 
a  good  many  books,  a  pleasant  garden  (better,  I  believe, 
than  when  you  saw  it),  etc.  Would  to  God  I  might  have 
leave  to  lay  them  all  at  your  feet. 

'  You  will,  I  J^pe,  pardon  me  the  presumption  of  this 
122 


MRS.  DELANY 

wish,  when  I  assure  you  it  is  no  way  blemished  by  the 
vanity  of  thinking  them  worthy  of  your  acceptance  ;  but 
as  you  have  seen  the  vanities  of  the  world  to  satiety, 
I  allowed  myself  to  indulge  a  hope  that  a  retirement 
at  this  time  of  life  with  a  man  whose  turn  of  mind  is  not 
wholly  foreign  to  your  own,  and  for  that  only  reason  not 
wholly  unworthy  of  you  —  a  man  who  knows  your  worth, 
and  honours  you  as  much  as  he  is  capable  of  honouring 
anything  that  is  mortal  —  might  not  be  altogether  ab- 
horrent from  the  views  of  your  humble  and  unearthly 
wisdom.  This  I  am  sure  of,  that  if  you  reject  my  un- 
worthy offering,  your  humility  will  not  let  you  do  it  with 
disdain  ;  and  if  you  condescend  to  accept  it,  the  goodness 
of  your  nature  and  generosity  of  your  heart  will  prompt 
you  to  do  it  in  a  way  most  becoming  your  own  dignity, 
and  the  security  of  my  eternal  esteem  and  inexpressible 
gratitude  :  at  all  events,  let  me  not  be  impaired  in  the 
honour  of  your  friendship,  since  it  is  impossible  I  can  cease 
to  be,  with  the  truest  veneration  and  esteem,  madam, 
your  most  humble  and  most  obedient  servant, 

'PAT.  DELANY.' 

Mrs.  Pendarves^s  reply  to  this  proposal  has  not  been 
handed  down  ;  but  it  is  evident,  from  Dr.  Delany's  subse- 
quent letters,  that  she  was  inclined  to  accept  it,  though 
she  made  her  consent  conditional  upon  the  approval  of 
her  mother  and  brother.  Mr.  Granville  was  strongly 
opposed  to  the  match  on  account  of  the  suitor's  lack  of 
family  and  fortune,  while  Mrs.  Granville  appears  at  first 
to  have  taken  an  equally  unfavourable  view.  Nearly  a 
fortnight  later  Dr.  Delany  writes  again  :  — 


,  —  Though  I  can  scarcely  hold  a  pen  in  my 
hand,  I  cannot  help  attempting  to  inform  you  that  I 

123 


MRS.  DELANY 

apprehended  from  a  moment's  conversation  with  your 
brother  this  morning  in  the  street  that  his  visit  to 
Northend  has  made  some  change  in  his  sentiments  in 
relation  to  me.  I  beseech  you,  madam,  leave  me  not  to 
the  caprice  of  any  of  your  friends,  and  much  less  to  the 
mercy  of  every  humour  of  every  friend.  Where  you  owe 
duty,  pay  it,  and  let  me  rise  or  fall  by  the  determination 
of  duty ;  but  let  not  the  decision  depend  upon  the  fickle, 
the  uncertain,  and  the  selfish.  God  has  blessed  you  with 
noble  sentiments,  a  good  understanding,  and  a  generous 
heart ;  are  not  these,  under  God,  your  best  governors  ? 
I  might  venture  to  pronounce  that  even  a  parent  has 
no  right  to  control  you  at  this  time  of  life  and  under 
your  circumstances,  in  opposition  to  these,  and  a  brother 
has  no  shadow  of  right. 

*  Bless  me  with  one  minute's  conversation  before  you  go, 
and  fix  my  fate — thus  far  indeed  it  is  already  fixed,  that 
I  am,  and  must  for  ever  be,  unalterably  yours.' 

The  negotiations  dragged  on  for  some  weeks  longer. 
On  May  12th  Dr.  Delany  writes :  '  I  have  the  honour  of 
a  letter  from  Mrs.  Granville;  it  is  not  unfriendly,  and 
leaves  my  happiness  where  I  wish  it  may  rest  for  ever  on 
this  side  heaven — at  your  feet.  Might  I  hope  to  have 
one  ray  of  hope  conveyed  to  me  in  half  a  line  by  the 
bearer  ? 

'  May  14. — I  have  sent  the  message  agreed  on  to  Lady 
G.  by  my  friend,  who  undertook  it  with  a  zeal  and  frank- 
ness that  doubles  his  merit.  He  delighted  me  beyond 
measure  by  letting  me  see  he  honoured  you  highly,  that 
is  almost  half  as  much  as  I  do.  It  is  too  much  pre- 
sumption to  ask,  are  you  alone  ?  It  is  much  more  so  to  be 
happy  with  you  one  moment.  Adieu  ! ' 
124 


MRS.  DELANY 

Mrs.  Pendarves  seems  to  have  had  considerable  difficulty 
in  making  up  her  mind,  not  so  much  from  want  of  inclina- 
tion to  accept  her  elderly  lover,  as  from  reluctance  to 
offend  her  relations.  On  May  12th,  in  an  unpublished 
letter  to  her  sister  from  Merryworth,  where  she  was 
staying  with  Lady  Westmoreland,  she  writes :  '  If  my  mind 
was  at  full  liberty  I  might  give  you  a  description  of  this 
place  that  would  amuse  you,  but  at  present  I  cannot 
collect  my  thoughts  enough  to  give  you  any  great  enter- 
tainment. I  go  to  town  to-day,  and  I  suppose  I  shall 
find  a  letter  from  my  dear  mama  or  from  you  to  the  same 
purpose.  My  answer  to  D.  D.  [Dr.  Delany]  depends  upon 
that,  for  it  will  be  doing  wrong  both  by  him  and  myself 
to  keep  him  any  longer  in  suspense.  I  shall  leave  this 
place  at  eleven  and  propose  being  at  home  at  eight  in  the 
evening,  and  now  I  will  think  no  more  of  the  grand  affair, 
but  scribble  on  at  any  rate  to  tell  you  a  little  of  this 
place,  and  how  I  have  passed  my  time.  I  went  to  St. 
George's  Church  on  Sunday  morning,  from  thence  to 
breakfast  at  my  Lady  Westmoreland's,  and  at  ten  my 
Lord  and  my  Lady,  your  humble  servant,  and  my  Lady's 
woman,  and  the  little  dog  set  out.  The]  day  hot  and 
dusty  till  we  had  left  London  about  ten  miles  behind  us, 
and  then  we  grew  sensible  of  the  sweet  country  air.  I 
can't  say  I  am  charmed  with  the  county  of  Kent;  the 
road  was  dull  eno'.  The  approach  to  Merry  worth  is  very 
handsome,  and  the  house  is  the  prettiest  building  I  ever 
saw.  .  .  . 

'  My  Lord  Westmoreland  is  a  very  good  sort  of  a  plain 
man,  easy  and  civil.  She  is  polite,  sensible,  and  ingenious, 
but  too  reserved.  She  is  perfect  mistress  of  several  lan- 
guages, particularly  Latin  ;  but  has  no  ostentation  of  her 
learning,  and  rather  takes  pains  to  hide  it.  I  could  have 

125 


MRS.  DELANY 

had  great  enjoyment  of  this  place  had  I  not  had  so  great 
an  anxiety  on  my  spirits,  but  I  believe  Lady  Westmoreland 
has  thought  me  very  insensible  to  all  the  pleasures  here, 
for  I  have  showed  but  little  relish  to  them.  I  shall  be 
better  when  I  am  determined,  let  the  determination  be 
what  it  will.' 

Sir  John  Stanley  undertook  to  act  as  mediator  with  Mr. 
Granville,  and  by  May  29th  the  whole  affair  seems  to  have 
been  settled,  for  an  unpublished  letter  from  Mrs.  Dewes 
to  her  sister,  with  that  date,  runs  as  follows : — 

'  My  head  and  heart  are  so  entirely  occupied  about  you, 
my  dearest  sister,  that  I  could  spend  every  moment  in 
writing,  since  I  am  denied  the  more  perfect  way  of  telling 
you  my  present  crowd  of  thoughts  and  wishes,  and  I  would 
gratifie  the  vast  desire  I  have  of  being  with  you  at  this 
time  (and  I  may  say  /  would,  having  no  tyrant  to  control 
me,  but  a  kind  director  to  advise,  which  I  hope  will  be 
your  case),  did  I  not  fear  the  journey  would  tire  me  so 
much  that  I  should  give  you  more  pain  than  pleasure. 
.  .  .  Mr.  Dewes  sets  out  to-morrow  and  will  be  in  town 
on  Thursday ;  he  will  have  the  pleasure  of  speaking  for 
himself  to  all  our  friends ;  therefore  I  shall  partly  leave  it 
to  him.  Also,  to  enforce  my  request  of  seeing  you,  my 
dearest  sister,  as  soon  as  you  have  settled  all  your  affairs, 
and  surely  I  need  not  say  how  welcome  every  friend  of 
yours  must  be  to  me,  but  especially  those  [sic]  whom  you 
have  taken  to  be  your  first  and  most  particular  friend ; 
and  they  will  come  doubly  recommended  by  their  own 
merit,  and  your  distinction  of  it,  and  indeed  Doctor 
Delany  must  make  me  amends  by  letting  me  have  a 
great  deal  of  your  company  hereafter  for  retarding  my 
happiness  now.  The  high  notion  he  has  of  justice  as  well 
as  tender  affections  will  induce  him  to  it,  for  you  can 
126 


MRS.  DELANY 

inform  him  how  much  of  the  softness  and  infirmity  of 
friendship  I  have,  while  he  will  find  in  you  all  the  strength, 
ardour,  and  sentiments  that  can  make  the  most  perfect 
friend  and  agreeable  companion.  Happy,  happy  man  to 
possess  such  a  treasure !  Surely  Providence  has  given 
him  the  great  blessing  as  a  reward  in  this  world  for  the 
zeal  he  has  showed  in  the  cause  of  religion  and  good  of 
mankind.  .  .  .  Alas,  my  dear  Penny,  it  makes  me  tremble 
when  you  say  'tis  three  weeks  before  an  answer  can  return 
from  Ireland !  What  an  age  to  an  impatient  heart 
anxious  for  the  health  and  circumstances  of  a  belov'd 
friend  !  But  that 's  a  thought  I  must  not,  dare  not,  trust 
myself  to  encourage.  .  .  . 

'  How  does  the  eagerness  of  my  thoughts  hurry  me 
away  from  what  I  ought  first  to  mention,  the  commands 
of  our  dear  mama?  She  sends  you  her  tenderest  bless- 
ing, and  desires  you  will  act  in  every  respect  as  is  most 
suitable  to  your  own  affairs,  inclination,  and  the  opinion 
of  the  friends  you  are  with.  I  believe  I  told  you  so  last 
post,  but  as  I  find  by  your  letter  last  night  you  are 
very  much  pressed  to  conclude  everything  before  you 
leave  London,  she  desires  you  won't  perplex  yourself 
about  receiving  her  assent  to  every  particular,  when  in 
general  she  shall  be  pleased  with  what  you  do ;  and  as 
long  as  you  have  my  brother  to  consult  and  advise  you, 
I  hope  you  will  be  easy ;  but  I  wish  you  would  let  me 
lay  your  scheme.  Let  all  writings  be  finished  as  soon  as 
possible,  that  the  Bishop  of  Gloster  may  not  have  left 
London,  for  I  like  his  praters  and  blessing,  which,  as  soon 
as  you  have  received,  set  out  for  Bradley ;  tho"1  our  cottage 
and  entertainment  is  of  the  most  rural  kind,  the  affection 
it  contains,  and  quiet  it  admits,  will  be  more  agreeable 
upon  such  an  occasion  than  a  splendid  palace  with  the 

127 


MRS.  DELANY 

interruptions  of  company  and  equipage.  And  if  my 
brother  Granville  will  be  so  good  to  come  with  you,  I 
can  really  make  room.  Now,  I  know  he  will  laugh,  and 
think  it  impossible,  but  I  assure  you  "'tis  not,  and  I  wish 
he  would  try;  for  Love  is  a  fairy  art  that  can  enlarge 
all  things.  .  .  .^ 

Mrs.  Dewes,  when  once  she  had  reconciled  herself  to  the 
match,  was  evidently  determined  not  to  do ,  things  by 
halves,  for  on  June  3rd  we  find  her  writing  to  her  future 
brother-in-law : — 

'  Though  it  is  very  natural  to  like  those  persons  who 
are  valued  and  distinguished  by  a  favourite  friend,  yet 
I  must  assure  you  that  my  respect  and  admiration  you 
have  had  long  before  I  could  imagine  that  there  would  be 
any  other  attachment  than  what  is  due  to  uncommon 
merit;  but  I  now  with  great  willingness  and  pleasure 
will  add  sisterly  affection  and  esteem,  which  I  dare  say 
must  increase  upon  acquaintance,  and  as  you  make  her 
happy  who  is  endeared  to  me  by  the  strongest  ties  of 
love  and  obligation.  If  you  find  she  has  not  entirely 
misplaced  her  friendship,  and  will  add  yours  to  it,  I  shall 
be  vastly  glad,  and  if  the  most  ardent  prayers  and  wishes 
for  your  mutual  happiness  is  any  degree  of  merit,  then 
I  own  I  have  a  great  deal,  and  fear  I  can  claim  no 
other. 

'  The  just  sense  you  have  of  my  sister's  extreme  worth 
gives  me  infinite  delight ;  I  never  thought  she  could  meet 
with  any  one  sensible  enough  of  those  delicacies  in  her 
disposition  that  complete  the  most  amiable  part  of  a 
woman's  character,  but  now  I  believe  she  has ;  which  will 
greatly  alleviate  what  I  shall  suffer  from  her  absence. 
Her  absence  is  a  subject  I  will  not  mention,  for  as  I  now 
sincerely  desire  to  promote  your  happiness,  I  trust  in  your 
128 


MRS.  DELANY 

generosity  to  deprive  me  of  as  little  of  mine  as  is  in  your 
power  to  avoid ;  and  shall  put  Mrs.  Pendarves  in  mind 
how  much  joy  and  satisfaction  she  retards  by  staying  in 
London  longer  than  is  absolutely  necessary.1 

Although  her  mother  and  sister  were  reconciled  to  the 
match,  Mary  was  never  completely  forgiven  by  her  brother 
for  what  he  regarded  as  a  mesalliance ;  and  it  is  evident 
that  her  Granville  relations  and  many  of  her  old  friends 
were  disappointed  in  her,  and  inclined  to  look  coldly 
upon  her  husband.  In  the  days  when  a  woman  was 
regarded  as  a  fool  to  refuse  a  good  settlement  because  it 
was  accompanied  by  a  dull  and  vicious  husband,  it  is 
obvious  that  she  would  not  be  thought  very  wise  who 
accepted  a  man  of  obscure  family  and  moderate  means 
merely  because  he  happened  to  be  possessed  of  high 
moral  and  intellectual  gifts.  In  her  younger  days  Mary 
had  several  times  run  the  risk  of  offending  her  family 
by  rejecting  the  offers  of  rich  and  titled  suitors.  Like 
her  sister,  she  had  shrunk  from  the  idea  of  marriage  with 
one  of  the  foolish  or  dissipated  young  men  of  fashion  who 
hovered  round  her ;  but,  unlike  Anne,  she  had  demanded 
exceptional  intellect  as  well  as  worth  of  character  in  a 
husband. 

We  have  seen  how  strongly  she  had  been  attracted  by 
the  social  charms  of  Dr.  Delany's  circle  thirteen  years 
•before,  and  how  eagerly  she  had  grasped  at  the  friendship 
'of  a  literary  giant  like  Swift.  Now  that  she  had  reached 
middle  life,  she  was  beginning  to  feel  the  drawbacks  of  a 
lonely  and  objectless  existence.  That  she  had  been  in  an 
unsettled  state  of  mind  for  some  months  before  she  received 
Dr.  Delany's  proposal  is  evident  from  the  fact  of  her 
having  applied  for  a  place  at  Court.  The  permanent 
friendship  and  companionship  of  a  good  and  sensible  man 
i  129 


MRS.  DELANY 

held  out  a  prospect  of  reasonable  happiness  and  usefulness 
which  she  found  it  impossible  to  resist,  and  it  seems 
certain  that  she  never  repented  her  marriage  with 
Dr.  Delany. 

When  once  Mrs.  Pendarves  had  made  up  her  mind  to 
the  weighty  step  there  was  no  further  delay,  and  the 
wedding  took  place  quietly  on  June  9, 1743.  The  newly- 
married  couple  spent  the  summer  and  autumn  in  paying 
visits  to  the  bride's  mother  and  sister,  and  to  various 
friends.  It  was  not  until  the  winter  that  they  returned 
to  Mrs.  Delany's  house  in  Clarges  Street.  Their 
departure  for  Dublin  was  deferred  until  the  spring  in 
order  that  interest  might  be  made  with  Mrs.  Delany's 
powerful  relations  to  obtain  an  Irish  bishopric  or  deanery 
for  her  husband.  Writing  to  her  sister  from  Clarges 
Street  on  November  10,  Mary  says  : — 

*  It  was  a  most  delightful  welcome  to  my  own  house  to 
hear  so  soon  from  my  dear  friends  at  Gloucester.  I  thank 
God  we  have  had  as  good  and  pleasant  a  journey  as  we 
could  possibly  have  wished  for.  Mr.  Dewes  has  informed 
you,  I  suppose,  of  his  safe  arrival  in  town  and  adventures 
on  the  road.  He  left  Burford  about  half  an  hour  before 
us.  After  a  good  breakfast  of  caudle  we  set  forward  for 
Cornbury,  and  sent  a  messenger  forward  to  ask  leave  to 
go  through  the  park,  and  to  say  if  my  Lord  C.  was  alone 
we  would  breakfast  with  him  ;  he  sent  back  an  invitation 
to  us  to  dine  as  well  as  breakfast,  and  entertained  us  with 
showing  us  his  house,  pictures,  and  park,  which  indeed 
are  all  as  well  worth  seeing  as  anything  in  England, 
especially  when  he  is  there  to  do  the  honours.  .  .  .  The 
pictures  are  excessively  fine,  most  of  them  Vandycks.  As 
Lord  Cornbury  led  me  to  the  carriage,  he  said  that  "  he 
was  obliged  to  me  that  he  now  belonged  to  Dr.  Delany, 
130 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  that  he  had  a  right  to  claim  his  friendship  and 
acquaintance."" ' 

A  long  visit  was  paid  to  Bulstrode  in  the  course  of  the 
winter,  and  while  there  Mary  received  a  friendly  letter 
from  Mrs.  Montagu,  in  which  that  lady  observes :  '  None 
but  the  present  Mrs.  Delany  can  be  so  good  as  the  late 
Mrs.  Pendarves.  ...  I  ought  to  make  some  apology  for 
not  having  wrote  to  you  on  your  marriage,  which,  though 
custom  seems  to  ordain,  I  think  when  a  person  chooses 
such  a  companion  as  you  have  done,  it  is  almost  an  injury 
to  interrupt  their  conversation.  I  am  sure  my  good 
wishes  and  regard,  and  I  must  say  my  love  for  you,  have 
had  no  intermission.  I  hope  you  will  receive  me  into 
grace  again,  and  allow  me  to  write  to  you.  Dr.  Delany 
is  happy  in  a  companion  like  you,  who  takes  a  philo- 
sopher's and  an  artist's  part  in  the  natural  world ;  to  a 
mind  that  comprehends  you  have  a  hand  that  records  and 
represents  its  beauties.  Your  drawing-room  boasts  of 
eternal  spring — nature  blooms  there  when  it  languishes 
in  gardens;  and  not  only  prospects  and  landscapes  are 
represented  by  your  art,  but  even  human  passions  and 
fugitive  thoughts  are  expressed  and  fixed  by  the  strokes 
of  your  pencil.  .  .  . 

'  The  fine  weather  we  have  had  lately  will  have  shown 
Bulstrode  to  Dr.  Delany  to  better  advantage  than  places 
usually  appear  at  this  time  of  year ;  and  I  observed  in  Dr. 
Delany  a  greater  gout  for  the  country,  and  a  better  taste 
for  rural  beauty  than  I  almost  ever  met  with.  In  his 
^imagination  I  could  perceive  the  poet,  in  his  reflections 
'the  philosopher,  and  in  both  the  divine? 

While  staying  at  Bulstrode  Mrs.  Delany  suffered  from 
some  indisposition,  touching  which  Dr.  Delany  writes  to 
Mrs.  Dewes  on  January  11,  1744:  'I  am  set  down,  my 

131 


MRS.  DELANY 

dear  sister,  with  the  worst  pen  and  ink  in  the  world,  but 
the  best  goodwill  to  write  to  you,  and  to  inform  you  that 
the  Pearl  is,  I  thank  God,  as  fair  and  much  more  precious 
than  ever.  She  is  at  this  moment  in  high  mirth  with  the 
Duchess;  she  eat  her  dinner  with  a  good  relish,  and  I 
think  she  is  well  disposed  for  her  supper.  She  is  mightily 
bent  on  going  to  town  on  Friday  or  Saturday  next,  and 
I  am  at  least  satisfied  she  may  do  it  in  safety.  You  who 
know  me,  and  the  treasure  under  my  care,  will  not  be 
surprised  at  my  solicitude ;  indeed,  my  whole  soul  is,  and 
has  for  some  time  been,  divided  between  prayers  and 
thanksgivings  to  Almighty  God — thanksgivings  for  the 
blessing  of  such  a  wife,  and  earnest  prayers  for  its  con- 
tinuance. I  am  got  into  a  spirit  of  praying,  and  cannot 
indulge  it  more  agreeably  than  in  lifting  up  my  heart  to 
heaven  for  its  choicest  blessings  on  you  all.1 

Thanks  to  the  sympathy  and  encouragement  of  her 
husband,  Mary  now  devoted  herself  more  industriously 
than  ever  to  artistic  pursuits.  In  March  she  writes  to 
her  sister:  *  How  do  you  think  I  have  lately  been  employed? 
Why,  I  have  made  a  drama  for  an  oratorio  out  of  Milton's 
Paradise  Lost,  to  give  Mr.  Handel  to  compose  to ;  it  has 
cost  me  a  deal  of  thought  and  contrivance.  D.  D.  [Dr. 
Delany]  approves  of  my  performance,  and  that  gives  me 
some  reason  to  think  it  not  bad,  though  all  I  have  had  to 
do  has  been  collecting  and  making  the  connection  between 
the  fine  parts.  ...  I  would  not  have  a  word  of  Milton's 
altered ;  and  I  hope  to  prevail  with  Handel  to  set  it 
without  having  any  of  the  lines  put  into  verse,  for  that 
will  take  from  it  its  dignity.  This,  and  painting  three 
pictures,  have  been  my  chief  morning  occupation  since  I 
came  to  town.' 

Mrs.  Dewes'  little  boy  was  suffering  from  the  ague,  and 
132 


MRS.  DELANY 

Mrs.  Delany  sends  two  infallible  recipes — one  consisting  of 
a  plaster  made  of  ginger  and  brandy,  the  other  of  a  spider 
put  into  a  goose-quill,  well  sealed  and  secured,  and  hung 
about  the  child's  neck.  Either  of  these,  she  is  convinced, 
will  ease  the  ague !  In  the  same  month,  March  1744,  she 
mentions  that  the  King  had  sent  a  message  to  the  two 
houses  to  let  them  know  that  the  Pretender's  son  was  in 
France,  and  that  they  had  undoubted  intelligence  that 
the  French  designed  an  invasion  with  the  Brest  fleet.  It 
was  expected  that  a  good  many  disaffected  persons  in 
England  would  join  them.  A  more  cheerful  piece  of  news 
was  to  the  effect  that  *  Admiral  Matthews  has  beaten  the 
Spaniards,  and  the  French  have  run  away.  The  storm 
we  had  on  Friday  se'night  stranded  twelve  of  the  French 
transports  at  Dunkirk,  and  lost  them  six  hundred  men.' 

" 


133 


CHAPTER   IX 

(1744-1748) 

CENTURY  and  a  half  ago  family  interest  was,  of  course,  a 
-far  stronger  weapon  wherewith  to  fight  the  battle  of  life 
:-  than  it  is  at  the  present  day,  and  it  was  the  custom  to 
-  ask  frankly  and  openly  for  preferment.     Mrs.  Delany  was 
"the  child  of  her  age,  and  she  was  particularly  anxious 
1  that  her  *  D.  D.1  should  be  promoted,  partly,  no  doubt, 
;  because  she  felt  that  as  a  dignitary  of  the  Church  he 
„'  would   be  raised   in  the  estimation  of  her  family.      In 
a  letter,  dated  January  19,  1744,  she  tells  her  sister  that 
she  has   written    a   'comical  letter'  to   their   kinsman, 
Lord  Gower,  in  which  she  said  that  she  was  so  reasonable 
as  to  have  only  three  petitions  to  prefer  at  one  time. 

'I  then  mentioned  Miss  Granville,'  she  continues, 
'  recommended  Mr.  Dewes,  and  desired  his  interest  with 
Lord  Chesterfield  to  get  the  Bishopric  of  Kildare  for 
D.  D.  My  letter  was  a  long  one,  and  I  have  not  time  to 
transcribe  it.  Sometimes  a  letter  of  that  kind  is*better 
remembered  and  listened  to  than  a  more  serious  one. 
You  shall  know  the  answer  as  soon  as  I  get  one.  I  am 
very  eager  about  the  Bishopric  of  Kildare ;  there  is  no 
preferment  in  Ireland  so  desirable  for  us,  though  many 
much  greater  in  income,  but  this  will  give  us  the  liberty 
of  spending  all  the  time  we  are  in  Ireland  at  Delville, 
and  we  may  visit  England  more  frequently  than  other- 
wise we  should  be  able  to  do.  I  have  written  on  this 
134 


MRS.  DELANY 

subject  to  Lady  Chesterfield,  Lady  Westmoreland,  and 
Lord  Cornbury.  I  think  I  have  a  pretty  good  chance  of 
succeeding,  if  I  don't  speak  too  late.' 

^    The  coveted  bishopric  was  not  obtained,  but  early  in 

s  /May  1744  Dr.  Delany  was  preferred  to  the  Deanery  of 

."  Down.     On  May  8,  Mrs.  Delany  writes  to  Mrs.  Dewes : — 

'  I  told  you  that  I  should  not  write  to  you  by  this  post, 
and  I  should  have  been  as  good  as  my  word,  but  that  the 
Dean  of  Down  desires  me  to  make  his  compliments  to 
you  !  and  to  present  his  duty  to  my  mother.  .  .  .  Yester- 
day, j  ust  as  dinner  came  on  the  table,  Lord  Carteret  came 
in.  He  desired  I  would  send  the  servants  away,  and 
when  they  were  gone,  he  told  D.  D.  he  was  come  from  the 
Duke  of  Devonshire  to  offer  him  the  Deanery  of  Down, 
and  that  the  first  small  bishopric  that  fell  in  he  might 
have  if  he  afterwards  cared  to  leave  Down ;  but  the 
Deanery  is  much  better  than  any  small  bishopric,  and  we 
are  well  pleased  with  the  possession  of  it.1 

The  following  month,  after  a  farewell  family  gathering 
at  Calwich,  Mr.  Granville's  place,  the  couple  started  for 
Ireland,  and  established  themselves  at  Delville,  Doctor 
Delany's  villa  near  Dublin.  On  June  18,  Mrs.  Delany 
writes :  '  How  impatient  I  have  been  to  let  you  know  how 
happily  we  have  performed  our  journey ;  and  to  crown 
all,  I  was  welcomed  to  Delville  by  your  dear  letter  of  the 
14th,  a  happy  omen.  On  Sunday  evening  we  removed 
from  Chester  to  Park  Gate,  in  hopes  of  sailing  next  morn- 
ing early,  but  the  wind  was  contrary,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  remain  there  all  Monday.  On  Tuesday  we 
went  on  board  the  yacht.  Though  the  wind  was  not  very 
fair,  the  weather  was  so  good  that  the  captain  said  we 
might  make  our  passage  very  well,  which  I  thank  God  we 
did,  and  landed  yesterday  between  eight  and  nine.  We 

135 


MRS.  DELANY 

did  not  come  directly  to  Delville,  it  being  so  late,  but 
packed  away,  bag  and  baggage,  and  went  to  Mrs.  FordelX 
who  expected  us  to  lie  at  her  house ;  she  is  a  very  well- 
bred,  friendly,  agreeable  woman,  and  I  was  perfectly  easy 
with  her.     On  Tuesday  the  day  was  so  fine  that  I  sat  on 
deck  the  whole  day,  and  eat  a  very  good  dinner,  and  an 
egg  for  my  supper,  and  worked  and  drew  two  or  three 
sketches ;  nothing  could  be  more  pleasant,  but  we  went 
-  slowly,  not  having   wind   enough.     In  the   evening  the 
weather  grew  more  favourable  for  our  sailing,  but  made 
the  ship  roll,  and  we  were  very  ill  all  night,  and  the  next 
-'day  till   about  five,  that  they  came  to   the   cabin,   and 
x.-said  we  were  just   entering   the   bay   of  Dublin;    upon 
which  we  got  up,  and   were   soon   cured   by   the   good 
.  ,  weather  and  the  fair  prospect  of  landing. 

'  Every  word  of  my  dearest  sister's  letter  touches  my 
heart,  and  is  most  faithfully  returned  with  sincerest  love. 
Do  not  say  I  am  "  lost  to  you  " ;  I  cannot  bear  that  expres- 
sion, for  I  am  everywhere  yours.  As  soon  as  I  examined 
my  house  to-day,  I  laid  out  an  apartment  for  you,  and  I 
hope  you  will  provide  the  same  for  me  at  Welsbourne. 
My  love  and  blessing  to  the  dear  happy  boy  that  flourishes 
under  your  charge.1 

Mrs.  Delany  was  evidently  highly  pleased  with  her  new 
possessions,  for  in  another  letter  she  gives  a  minute 
account  of  the  house,  and  paints  the  glories  of  her  own 
apartments,  the  drawing-room  hung  with  tapestry,  the 
crimson  mohair  curtains  and  chairs,  the  large  glasses  with 
gilt  frames,  the  marble  tables  and  japan  chests.  '  I  wish 
you  just  such  a  chariot  as  ours,1  she  writes  on  July  12, 
*  because  I  never  went  in  so  easy  a  one.1  Then  follows  a 
more  particular  description  of  the  house,  with  the  sizes  of 
all  the  principal  rooms.  The  newly  married  couple  were 
136 


MRS.  DELANY 

chiefly  occupied  in  receiving  and  paying  calls,  entertaining 
and  being  entertained,  until  the  end  of  August,  when 
they  set  out  to  take  possession  of  their  Deanery  of  Down. 
There  was  then  no  Deanery  house,  so  they  stayed  at 
Mount  Panther,  a  place  about  five  miles  from  Down. 
On  September  10,  Mrs.  Delany  writes :  '  Yesterday  the 
Dean  preached  at  Down,  and  we  women  went  to  the 
church  of  our  poet,  Dr.  Matthews,  two  miles  off.  .  .  . 
D.  D.  is  very  busy  in  making  a  plan  for  the  Deanery 
house.  He  is  very  much  shocked  at  the  present  jail  at 
Down,  and  is  determined  to  have  it  altered,  and  to  have 
one  built  with  separate  apartments  for  the  men  and 
women,  and  a  chapel ;  he  gives  a  hundred  pounds  towards 
it,  and  endows  the  chapel  with  twenty  pounds  a  year  for 
a  clergyman  to  give  them  a  service. ' 

On  her  return  to  Delville  for  the  winter,  Mrs.  Delany 
found  plenty  to  occupy  her  time,  what  with  her  social 
-and  domestic  duties  in  addition  to  her  artistic  pursuits. 
Dublin  has  always  been  noted  for  its  hospitality,  and  in 
the  last  century  this  seems  to  have  taken  the  form  of  heavy 
dinners  and  suppers.  The  menu  for  one  of  the  Delville 
dinners  is  a  curiosity  in  its  way,  and  may  be  transcribed 
for  the  benefit  of  modern  housewives.  It  consisted  of — 

Turkeys  endove.  Partridge. 

Boyled  leg  of  mutton.  Sweetbreads. 

Greens,  etc.  Collared  pig. 

Soup.  Creamed  apple  tart. 

Plum  pudding.  Crabs. 

Roast  loin  of  veal.  Fricassee  of  eggs. 

Venison  pasty.  Pigeons. 

No  dessert  to  be  had. 

The   letters   of  this   winter  are    chiefly   of   domestic 
interest,  and  treat  of  Dublin  personages  who  are  quite 

137 


MRS.  DELANY 

unknown  to  fame.  Sir  John  Stanley's  death  about 
Christmas  time  must  have  been  a  great  shock  to  the 
niece  who  had  spent  so  much  of  her  time  with  him. 
Writing  on  January  3,  Mrs.  Delany  says :  '  What  you 
•  say  of  Sir  John  Stanley  is  very  just.  I  have  the  satisfac- 
tory consciousness  of  having  acted  a  right  part  towards 
him ;  I  have  from  my  childhood  received  many  favours, 
and. to  the  day  of  my  death  I  shall  gratefully  remember 
him ;  but  my  brother  has  had  it  more  in  his  power  to 
show  his  regard,  and  for  many  years  we  know  he  gave 
up  the  world  for  his  sake,  and  I  know  he  deserved  to  be 
more  distinguished.  Mr.  Monck  had  not  the  manners  to 
give  my  brother  or  me  notice  of  Sir  John's  illness  or  death. 
He  will  be  obliged  to  sell  Northend  ;  I  wish  it  may  be 
bought  by  somebody  I  love,  but  I  would  rather  have  it  in 
possession  of  anybody  than  Mr.  M.' 

About  the  end  of  March  the  Delanys  set  out  again  for 
Down,  remaining  at  Mount  Panther  until  June,  when 
they  moved  into  Holly  Mount,  a  house  within  easier  reach 
of  the  town.  On  June  8,  1745,  Mary  writes  to  her 
mother : — 

'  DEAREST  MADAM, — Though  I  did  not  expect  it,  the 
sight  of  your  hand  gave  me  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  and 
my  sister  must  wait  till  next  post,  for  I  can  no  longer 
defer  from  making  my  best  acknowledgments  to  you, 
madam,  for  the  favour  of  yours ;  but  you  overwhelm  me 
with  shame  when  you  make  any  acknowledgment  of 
thanks  to  me ;  you  make  me  feel  how  much  more  I  owe 
you  than  I  can  ever  pay ;  and  all  I  can  do  is  to  take 
every  opportunity  of  showing  you  I  gratefully  remember 
your  goodness,  though  I  am  unable  to  make  a  sufficient 
return.  ...  I  don't  at  all  doubt  my  sister's  notableness ; 
138 


MRS.  DELANY 

I  think  she  has  blended  in  her  composition,  beyond  any- 
body I  know,  the  excellencies  of  a  good  economist  and 
the  elegance  of  a  fine  lady,  without  any  of  her  foibles.  .  .  . 
'  I  gave  my  sister  an  account  of  our  journey  to  Mount 
Panther,  which  is  six  miles  from  hence.  We  came  here  last 
Tuesday,  and  brought  all  the  family  with  us,  and  found 
the  house  in  very  good  order,  and  a  good  dinner  ready. 
The  house  is  very  indifferent,  but  the  situation  pleasant. 
The  Dean  has  agreed  for  the  building  of  his  new  church, 
and  is  very  busy  visiting  all  the  families  in  his  Deanery, 
which  will  be  a  laborious  work.  It  is  very  strange,  but 
the  poor  here  have  been  so  neglected ;  they  say  they  never 
saw  a  clergyman  in  their  lives  but  when  they  went  to 
church.  .  .  .' 

Writing  to  her  sister  a  few  days  later,  she  observes : 
'  Never  did  any  flock  want  more  the  presence  and  assist- 
ance of  a  shepherd  than  this  Deanery,  where  there  has 
been  a  most  shameful  neglect ;  and  I  trust  in  God  it  will 
be  a  very  happy  thing  for  the  poor  people  that  D.  D.  is 
come  among  them.  The  church  of  Down  is  very  large,  but 
it  is  not  a  quarter  filled  with  people ;  the  curate  has  been  so 
negligent  as  never  to  visit  any  of  the  poor  of  the  parish  ; 
and  a  very  diligent  and  watchful  dissenting  minister  has 
visited  them  on  all  occasions  of  sickness  and  distress,  and 
by  that  means  gained  great  numbers  to  the  meeting. 
D.  D.  has  already  visited  a  great  number ;  when  he  has 
been  with  all  the  Protestants,  he  designs  to  go  to  the 
Presbyterians,  and  then  to  the  Papists ;  they  bless  him 
and  pray  for  him  wherever  he  goes,  and  say  he  has  done 
more  good  already  than  all  his  predecessors.  The  last 
'  Dean  was  here  but  two  days  in  six  years  !  .  .  . 

'  As  Down  is  three  miles  from  hence,  and  we  cannot  go 

139 


MRS.  DELANY 

to  prayers  in  the  afternoon  if  we  dine  at  home,  the  Dean 
designs  to  dine  every  Sunday  in  Down.  There  is  a 
.  public-house  kept  by  a  clever  man  who  was  butler  to  one 
of  the  deans ;  he  has  a  very  good  room  in  his  house,  and 
is  to  provide  a  good  dinner,  and  the  Dean  will  fill  his  table 
every  Sunday  with  all  the  townsmen  and  their  wives  by 
,  turns,  which  will  oblige  the  people,  and  give  us  an  oppor- 
tunity of  going  to  church  in  the  afternoon  without  fatigue. 

*  We  rise  about  seven,  have  prayers  and  breakfast  over 
by  nine.  In  the  mornings  D.  D.  makes  his  visits,  and  I 
draw ;  when  it  is  fair,  and  he  walks  out,  I  go  with  him ; 
-  we  dine  at  two ;  in  the  afternoon  when  we  can't  walk  out, 
reading  and  talking  amuse  us  till  supper,  and  after  supper 
I  make  shifts  and  shirts  for  the  poor  naked  wretches  in 
the  neighbourhood.  .  .  . 

'I  am  very  sorry  to  find  here  and  everywhere  people 
out  of  character,  and  that  wine  and  tea  enter  where 
they  have  no  pretence  to  be,  and  usurp  the  rural  food  of 
syllabub,  etc.  But  the  dairymaids  wear  large  hoops  and 
velvet  hoods  instead  of  the  round  tight  petticoat  and 
straw  hat,  and  there  is  as  much  foppery  introduced  in 
the  food  as  in  the  dress, — the  pure  simplicity  of  the 
country  is  quite  lost.' 

In  August  the  Delanys  returned  to  Delville,  and  Mary 
writes :  '  This  place  is  now  in  perfect  beauty,  and  the 
weather  has  been  so  fine  that  every  hour  of  the  day  I  could 
spare  from  business  and  meals  has  been  spent  in  the 
garden,  chiefly  in  Pearly  Dewes1  bower,  where  one  of  our 
tame  robins  welcomed  us  home,  and  flew  to  the  Dean's 
hand  for  the  bounty  he  used  to  bestow.  I  am  very  glad 
you  do  not  expect  me  till  spring ;  for  as  it  is  impossible 
for  me  to  leave  .this  place  before  October,  I  think  it  would 
be  safer  and  better  not  to  go  till  April.  I  am  come  home 
140 


MRS.  DELANY 

to  a  hurry,  and  have  found  many  things  to  settle  in  my 
household  that  all  housekeepers  are  sometimes  troubled 
with — servants,  accusations  that  must  be  cleared  and  are 
very  teasing,  though  I  don't  torment  myself  with  those 
affairs ;  but  as  our  family  is  large,  and  consequently 
expensive,  it  requires  both  my  care  and  attention.  .  .  . 

'  The  yachts  are  to  go  this  day  for  my  Lord  Lieutenant, 
so  in  a  few  days  I  suppose  we  shall  have  them.  I  design 
to  make  my  first  visit  in  an  Irish  stuff  manteau  and  petti- 
coat, and  a  head  the  Dean  has  given  me  of  Irish  work,  the 
prettiest  I  ever  saw  of  the  kind.  He  has  made  me  also  a 
present  of  a  repeating  watch  and  a  diamond  ring;  the 
diamond  is  a  brilliant,  but  such  gems  are  only  valuable 
when  they  are  testimonials  of  a  kind  and  affectionate 
heart.' 

At  the  time  of  their  marriage  Dr.  Delany  had  promised 

his  wife  that  she  should  pay  a  visit  to  her  relatives  in 

England  every  year  if  practicable.     There  had  been  some 

talk  of  a  journey  to   England  in  the  autumn  of  this 

-year  1745,  but    the   insurrection   in   Scotland    made   it 

j,  unsafe   to   cross   the   seas.     The    '  ugly  rebels,1  as   Mrs. 

Delany  calls  them,  having  apparently  quite  forgotten  the 

former  Jacobite  sympathies  of  her  own  family,  continue 

to   cause   her  a  good  deal   of  anxiety,  partly  lest  they 

.should  penetrate  as   far  as  Gloucester,  partly  lest   they 

',  should   interfere  with  her  journey   to   England   in   the 

,   spring.     In  the  course  of  October  she  writes  to  assure 

Mrs.  Dewes  that  Ireland  remains  unaffected,  and  that 

though  it  had  formerly  been  a  place  of  great  confusion 

and  disturbance,  people  in  general  were  very  well  disposed 

towards  the  present  Government. 

'  My  mind  is  now  much  better  satisfied,1  she  observes, 
'for  we  are  now  very  well  prepared  for  the  rebels,  the 

141 


MRS.  DELANY 

Dutch  troops  and  our  own  being  landed,  and  the  Duke 
by  this,  I  suppose,  being  returned  home.  We  have 
reason  to  fear  a  chastisement,  as  I  believe  there  never  was 
more  impiety  in  the  world  than  at  this  time ;  but  I  hope 
there  may  be  ten  righteous  men  found  to  save  the  city, 
and  that  our  next  accounts  from  England  may  bring  us 
more  comfortable  news  of  all  danger  being  past.  ...  I 
own  I  am  under  no  apprehension  that  a  ragged,  ill- 
disciplined,  and  irregular  body  of  men,  though  pretty 
numerous,  should  stand  long  against  our  forces  when 
they  have  once  met,  unless  Providence  design  to  chastise 
us  for  our  impiety,  which,  indeed,  is  to  be  feared."1 

On  October  22,  Mrs.  Delany  describes  a  visit  with 
which  Delville  was  honoured  by  the  Lord  Lieutenant 
and  Lady  Chesterfield :  '  Yesterday  they  sent  over  early 
in  the  morning  to  know  if  we  were  disengaged,  as  they 
would  breakfast.  To  work  went  all  my  maids,  stripping 
covers  off  the  chairs,  sweeping,  dusting,  etc.,  and  by  eleven 
o'clock  my  house  was  as  spruce  as  a  cabinet  of  curiosities, 
and  well  disposed  on  their  Excellencies,  who  commended 
and  admired,  and  were  as  polite  as  possible.  They  came 
soon  after  eleven  in  their  travelling  coach.  When  break- 
fast was  over,  they  made  me  play  on  the  harpsichord, 
which  I  did  with  an  ill  grace.  When  that  was  done,  we 
went  into  the  garden,  and  walked  over  every  inch  of  it ; 
they  seemed  much  surprised  with  the  variety  they  found 
there,  and  could  not  have  said  more  civil  things  had  it 
been  my  Lord  Cobham's  Stowe.  They  staid  till  near  two, 
and  mv  Lord  Lieutenant  and  the  Dean  had  a  great  deal 
of  conversation  which  I  believe  was  mutually  agreeable. 

'  Pray  have  you  ever  seen  the  four  sermons  that  were 
published  by  Swift  last  year  ?     They  were  very  fine,  and 
worth  the  reading.      Have  you  read  Bishop  Sherlock's 
142 


MRS.  DELANY 

sermon  on  the  Rebellion?  It  is  charming.  There  is  just 
published  a  humorous  pamphlet  by  Swift,  I  think  it  is 
called  "  Advice  to  Servants " ;  it  is  said  to  be  below  his 
genius,  but  comical.  I  wrote  you  word  of  his  death.  It 
was  a  happy  release  to  him,  for  he  was  reduced  to  such  a 
miserable  state  of  idiotism  that  he  was  a  shocking  object, 
though  in  his  person  a  very  venerable  figure,  with  long 
silver  hair  and  a  comely  countenance ;  for  being  grown  fat, 
the  hard  lines  which  gave  him  a  harsh  look  before  were 
filled  up.  .  .  . 

'  November  23. 

'Never  were  people  so  earnest  after  news  as  we, 
and  yet  no  news  can  we  hear  that  may  be  depended 
on.  The  taking  of  Carlisle  by  the  rebels  is  the  last 
we  have  had;  some  lament  it,  others  more  polite  say 
it  will  prove  a  trap  to  them.  Pray  God  send  us  peace ; 
but  it  seems  removed  far  from  us.  I  have  not  heard  from 
my  brother  Granville  a  great  while.  Is  it  not  a  shame 
to  say  I  hope  he  is  not  engaged  in  my  Lord  Gower's 
regiment  ?  Should  I  not  have  a  more  martial  and  public 
spirit  ?  If  giving  up  my  own  life  would  save  my  country 
from  ruin,  I  think  I  could  do  it,  but  to  hazard  a  dear 
friend's  at  an  uncertainty,  I  cannot  bear,  so  I  hope  in  God 
he  is  safe  from  any  dark  hazard.  .  .  . 

'  On  the  Princess  of  Wales"  birthday  there  appeared  at 
Court  a  great  number  of  Irish  stuffs.  Lady  Chesterfield 
was  dressed  in  one,  and  I  had  the  secret  satisfaction  of 
knowing  myself  to  be  the  cause,  but  dare  not  say  so  here ; 
but  I  say,  "I  am  glad  to  find  my  Lady  Chesterfield's 
example  has  had  so  good  an  influence.11  The  poor  weavers 
are  starving — all  trade  has  met  with  a  great  check  this 
year.' 

In  spite  of  the  continued  anxiety  about  the  rebels,  the 

143 


MRS.  DELANY 

winter  passed  quietly  and  busily  away  for  the  good  couple 
at  Delville.  Mi's.  Delany  occupied  herself  in  making 
shell-work  ornaments  for  her  house  and  garden,  reading 
the  Lives  of  the  Admirals  and  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer's 
edition  of  Shakespeare,  copying  a  portrait  of  the  Duchess 
of  Mazarin,  and  attending  a  course  of  lectures  on  philo- 
sophy. A  propos  of  the  latter  she  writes :  *  I  am  ex- 
tremely pleased  with  the  philosophy  lectures,  but  am  also 
•  cruelly  disappointed.  I  hoped  to  have  been  made  a  wise 
woman  by  them,  but,  alas !  they  only  serve  to  show  my 
own  ignorance.  I  am  surprised  that  knowledge  should 
make  anybody  vain ;  I  think  it  rather  serves  to  humble 
the  mind,  since  to  those  who  have  drunk  deepest  of  the 
draught  of  knowledge  there  must  remain  so  many  things 
unaccountable.' 

In  the  early  spring  a  daughter  was  born  to  Mrs.  Dewes, 
who  was  named  Mary,  after  her  aunt.  '  I  would  have  her 
like  me,1  writes  that  lady,  '  in  everything  that  is  worthy 
of  your  regard,  but  to  endear  her  equally  to  me  I  wish 
most  heartily  that  she  may  resemble  my  own  dearest 
sister.  You  remember  Madame  de  Sevigne :  Mary  must 
be  my  Pauline.' 

The  eagerness  to  see  her  niece,  whom  from  the  first 
she  regarded  as  her  '  own  little  girl,'  naturally  increased 
Mrs.  Delany 's  anxiety  to  revisit  England.  Towards  the 
end  of  May  the  couple  set  sail  in  the  government  yacht, 
and  for  the  next  five  months  the  sisters  had  the  happiness 
of  being  together  at  Wellesbourne,  the  country  house  to 
which  the  Dewes  had  lately  removed  from  their  first  home 
at  Bradley.  The  sisters  seem  to  have  been  together 
until  October,  when  the  Delanys  made  a  round  of  visits 
before  going  to  town.  The  first  was  to  Lord  Cornbury, 
where  Mary  met  again  her  old  playfellow  the  Duchess  of 
144 


MRS.  DELANY 

Queensberry,  who,  she  says,  is  most  gracious  and  enter- 
taining. After  a  long  visit  to  '  the  amiable  Duchess '  at 
Bulstrode,  the  Delanys  settled  down  for  the  rest  of  the 
winter  in  a  lodging  in  Pall  Mall,  where  Mary  soon  found 
herself  surrounded  by  her  old  friends,  with  the  doors  of 
the  fashionable  world  open  before  her.  On  January  15, 
1747,  she  writes :  '  To-day  I  dine  with  the  Claytons,  and 
in  the  afternoon  go  to  Lady  Sunder  land's.  To-morrow 
I  go  to  St.  James's  to  pay  my  devoirs  to  the  Duchess  of 
Portland ;  dine  at  home ;  in  the  afternoon  go  to  the 
Duchess  of  Norfolk,  who  is  ill ;  to  the  Countess  of 
Kildare ;  and  finish  at  the  Duchess  of  Queensberry 's,  who 
is  to  have  a  hurricane.  On  Sunday  I  go  to  Carlton 
House  to  pay  my  salutations  to  their  Royal  Highnesses, 
and  in  the  afternoon  to  Mrs.  Montagu.  I  go  to-morrow 
in  my  Irish  green  damask  and  worked  head ;  on  the 
Birthday  in  a  flowered  silk  on  a  pale  deer-coloured 
ground  —  the  flowers,  mostly  purple,  are  mixed  with 
white  feathers.  I  think  it  extremely  pretty,  and  very 
modest.  .  .  . 

'I  was,  as  I  proposed,  at  Court  yesterday,  and  was 
most  graciously  received.  The  King  asked  me  how  I 
liked  Ireland,  the  Duke  did  the  same.  I  dined  at  home, 
and  in  the  afternoon  my  brother  came ;  he  looks  grave, 
and  lives  much  at  home,  though  he  is  much  courted  for 
his  company  abroad. 

'January  21. 

*  Yesterday  we  made  our  appearance  at  Leicester  House. 
The  Duchess  of  Portland  was  in  white  satin.  She  had 
all  her  fine  jewels  on,  and  looked  handsomer  than  ever  I 
saw  her  in  my  life,  and  in  my  eyes  outshone  in  every 
respect  all  the  blazing  stars  of  the  Court.  There  was  not 
much  finery,  new  clothes  not  being  required  on  this  Birth  - 
K  145 


MRS.  DELANY 

day.  They  curl,  and  wear  a  great  many  tawdry  things, 
but  there  is  such  a  variety  in  the  manner  of  dress  that  I 
don't  know  what  to  tell  you  is  the  fashion ;  the  only 
thing  that  seems  general  are  hoops  of  an  enormous  size, 
and  most  people  wear  vast  winkers  to  their  heads.  They 
are  now  come  to  such  an  extravagance  in  these  two 
particulars,  that  I  expect  soon  to  see  the  other  extreme 
of  thread-paper  heads,  and  no  hoops.  The  reigning 
beauty,  I  think,  among  the  very  young  things,  is  Lord 
Carpenter's  daughter ;  and  since  Lady  Dysart  was  fifteen, 
I  have  not  seen  anything  so  handsome ;  but  the  prize  of 
beauty  is  disputed  with  her  by  Lady  Emily  Lenox.  She 
is  indeed  like  "  some  tall,  stately  tower,"  while  the  other 
is  "some  virgin  queen's  delicious  bower."  In  the  after- 
noon I  made  a  visit  to  the  Percivals  and  Lady  Westmore- 
land. Coming  out  from  her  house,  as  soon  as  I  got  into 
my  chair,  the  chairman  fairly  overturned  it — fairly,  I  may 
say,  for  not  a  glass  was  broken,  nor  was  I  the  least  hurt. 
I  own  I  was  a  little  terrified,  and  Lord  Westmoreland, 
hearing  a  bustle  at  the  door,  found  me  topsy-turvy.  He 
insisted  on  my  getting  out  of  the  chair,  which  I  did, 
drank  a  glass  of  water,  sat  half  an  hour  in  his  library, 
and  went  on  to  Lady  Frances  Carteret. 

'January  29. 

'As  to  what  you  propose  of  my  coming  to  Welles- 
bourne,  I  will  compromise  the  matter  as  well  as  I  can. 
D.  D.  intends  going  to  the  Bath,  but  he  is  so  good  as  to 
say  that  I  can  spend  that  time  among  my  friends;  so  what 
I  propose  is  to  go  directly  to  Gloucester,  make  a  visit  of 
a  fortnight  or  three  weeks  there,  and  bring  my  mamma 
and  your  little  boy  to  Wellesbourne.  I  cannot  think  of 
your  hurrying  yourself  about,  and  I  am  sure  Gloucester 
is  not  a  place  you  will  wish  to  visit  when  you  have  not  an 
146 


MRS.  DELANY 

indispensable  call ;  but  I  must  go  there,  for  it  would  not 
be  right  towards  my  mother  not  to  do  it.  God  knows 
how  long  I  may  be  permitted  to  pay  her  that  duty ;  pray, 
was  she  not  seventy-five  the  last  birthday  ?  .  .  .  I  think 
you  are  quite  right  to  make  a  sack ;  they  are  easier  and 
handsomer  than  any  other  dress  for  a  lady  in  your  circum- 
stances; you  may  wear  a  sack  with  a  mob  under  your 
chin  if  you  please.  Scotch  caps  are  all  the  mode,  and 
are  worn  by  all  ages ;  they  are  put  on  with  a  couple  of 
pins,  and  that  is  a  great  recommendation  for  any  dress. 

'The  Duchess  of  Portland  was  saying  the  other  day 
that  nobody  had  invited  her  to  a  drum,  upon  which  I 
sent  her  ten  cards  in  feigned  hands — from  Mrs.  Guzzle  in 
Swallow  St.,  Mrs.  May  of  Bloomsbury,  Mrs.  Spratt  of 
Billingsgate,  Mrs.  Swift  of  Fleet  St.,  Mrs.  Alestub  of 
Brewer  St.,  Mrs.  Plummer  of  Leadenhall  St.,  and  Mrs. 
Selwine  of  Sackville  St.  At  first  she  could  not  tell  what 
to  make  of  such  a  rigmarole,  but  at  last  fixed  it  on 
Greene  and  the  Duke.1 

In  May  the  Delanys,  after  a  farewell  visit  to  Welles- 
bourne,  returned  to  their  Irish  home.  The  one  drawback 
to  Mary's  happiness  in  her  second  marriage  was  the  sepa- 
ration that  it  involved  from  her  sister;  and  the  letters 
from  Chester,  where  some  days  had  to  be  spent  in  await- 
ing the  Government  yacht,  are  written  in  a  melancholy 
mood.  *  Had  our  wheels  been  as  heavy  as  my  heart  when 
I  left  Wellesbourne,1  she  writes,  '  we  should  have  made  a 
tedious  journey.  To  leave  a  friend  one  loves  must  at  all 
times  be  painful ;  if  anything  can  render  it  less  so,  it  is 
the  consolation  of  such  a  friend  as  bears  me  company, 
who  not  only  thinks  it  reasonable  for  me  to  grieve,  but 
himself  sincerely  grieves  too.1 

But  Mary  was  not  the  woman  to  waste  overmuch  time 

147 


MRS.  DELANY 

in  vain  regrets,  and  the  first  letters  from  Delville  are 
pitched  in  a  much  more  cheerful  key.  The  house  and 
gardens  are  described  as  being  in  perfect  beauty,  three 
beautiful  young  deer  have  been  added  to  her  stock,  Tiger 
the  cat  knew  her  at  once,  and  she  has  a  very  thriving 
cow  and  calf.  Altogether,  life  was  not  without  its 
compensations. 

The  chief  event  of  the  summer  of  1747  was  the  death 
of  old  Mrs.  Granville,  who,  tradition  says,  died  on  her 
knees  in  the  act  of  saying  her  prayers.  Her  loss  was  very 
deeply  felt  by  both  her  daughters,  who  were  devotedly 
attached  to  her.  It  is  not  necessary  to  give  any  detailed 
account  of  the  Delany  manage  during  the  following  year. 
The  quiet  life  at  Delville  was  alternated  with  visits  to 
Down  or  to  friends  in  the  country.  In  August  1748  they 
stayed  with  their  old  acquaintances  Bishop  Clayton  and  his 
wife  at  the  palace,  Clogher,  and  explored  the  surrounding 
country ;  while  in  October  they  paid  a  more  interesting  visit 

-  to  Dangan,  Lord  Mornington's  place.    Lord  Mornington's 
only  son,  Garrett  Wesley  was,  it  will  be  remembered,  the 
father  of  the  great  Duke  of  Wellington,  and  Mrs.  Delany 's 

,<-  godson.  She  writes  from  Dangan  on  October  15 :  'This  place 
,-?  is  really  magnificent ;  the  old  house  that  was  burnt  down 

•  is   rebuilding.      The   gardens    and    park   consist    of   six 
hundred  Irish  acres.     There  is  a  gravel  walk  from  the 
house  to  the  great  lake,  which  contains  twenty-six  acres, 
and  is  of  an  irregular  shape,  with  islands  for  wild-fowl. 
There  are  several  ships,  one  a  complete  man-of-war.     My 
godson  is  governor  of  the  fort  and  Lord  High  Admiral ; 
he  hoisted  all  his  colours  for  my  reception,  and  was  not 
a  little  mortified  that  I  declined  the  honour  of  being 
saluted.  .  .  .  He  [Master  Wesley]  is  a  most  extraordinary 
boy ;  he  was  thirteen  last  month,  he  is  a  very  good  scholar, 

148 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  whatever  study  he  undertakes  he  masters  it  most 
surprisingly.  He  began  with  the  fiddle  last  year,  he  now 
plays  everything  at  sight;  he  understands  fortifications, 
building  of  ships,  and  has  more  knowledge  than  I  ever 
met  with  in  one  so  young.  He  is  a  child  among  children, 
and  as  tractable  and  complying  to  his  sisters,  and  all  who 
should  have  any  authority  over  him,  as  the  little  children 
can  be  to  you.' 


149 


CHAPTER    X 

(1749-1752) 

IN  the  spring  of  1749  the  Delanys  paid  their  periodical 
visit  to  England,  and  during  their  stay  the  letters  are 
naturally  infrequent.  The  summer  was  spent  at  different 
country  houses,  and  the  winter  in  town,  where  Mrs. 
Dewes  came  to  stay  with  her  sister  in  February. 
There  are  no  specially  interesting  allusions  in  the  letters 
this  winter,  and  in  May  the  Delanys  returned  to  Dublin. 
Mary  writes  on  May  18 :  'A  year's  absence  makes  it 
necessary  to  have  a  thorough  inspection  into  every- 
thing, and  I  am  settling  my  family  in  a  different  way 
from  what  it  was  formerly,  which  obliges  me  to  be 
Mrs.  Notable,  and  to  do  much  more  than  I  ever  did  in 
my  life,  and  I  hope  it  will  agree  with  me.'  In  July  they 
went  as  usual  to  Down  for  the  summer  months,  returning 
to  Delville  in  September. 

Mrs.  Delany's  letters  often  contain  accounts  of  the 
books  she  is  reading,  and  her  opinion  of  them.  During 
this  year  she]  read  The  Man  of  Honour,  Guadentio  di 
Lucca,  which  was  attributed  to  Bishop  Berkeley,  and 
Roderick  Random;  but  the  book  which  seems  to  have 
impressed  her  most,  and  to  which  she  makes  most  frequent 
allusion,  is  Clarissa  Harlowe.  She  was  the  more  interested 
in  this  work,  probably,  because  Richardson  was  an  ac- 
quaintance and  occasional  correspondent  of  Anne  Dewes. 
150 


MRS.  DELANY 

In  the  last  century  people  found  time,  apparently,  not 
only  to  read,  but  to  re-read  novels  in  eight  volumes.  In 
a  letter  dated  October  1750,  Mrs.  Delany  writes : — 

'I  am  now  as  deeply  engaged  with  Clarissa  as  when 
I  first  was  acquainted  with  her,  and  admire  her  more  and 
more.  I  am  astonished  at  the  author ;  his  invention,  his 
fine  sentiments,  strong  sense,  lively  wit,  and,  above  all,  his 
exalted  piety  and  excellent  design  in  the  whole.  I  find 
many  beauties  escaped  me  in  my  first  reading ;  I  was  so 
much  interested  and  run  away  with  by  the  story  that  I 
did  not  give  due  attention  to  many  delightful  passages.  I 
am  just  got  to  her  triumph  after  his  villainy;  how  poor 
and  despicable  a  figure  does  he  make  upon  their  first 
meeting,  and  how  noble  and  angelic  is  her  appearance 
and  behaviour!  The  contrast  between  flagrant  guilt 
and  injured,  though  unconquerable,  innocence  is  most 
judiciously  and  beautifully  drawn.  My  heart  was  almost 
broke  with  her  frenzy,  but  that  scene  afterwards  com- 
posed and  revived  my  spirits,  and  made  me  almost  rejoice 
in  her  distress."1 

In  this  year  Mrs.  Delany  received  a  petition  from  Mr. 
Ballard,  a  litterateur  of  some  repute  in  his  day,  that  she 
would  allow  him  to  dedicate  to  her  the  second  part  of 
his  work,  Memoirs  of  Learned  Ladies.  This  consisted  of 
short  biographical  sketches  of  literary  ladies  who  flourished 
from  the  fourteenth  to  the  eighteenth  century,  and  was 
published  by  subscription.  Mrs.  Delany  was  most  anxious 
to  refuse  the  honour,  but  her  husband  persuaded  her  to 
consent,  on  the  ground  that  the  author  would  be  deeply 
mortified  by  her  refusal.  '  I  hate  the  sort  of  compliments 
an  author  thinks  himself  obliged  to  pay  the  person  he 
dedicates  to,'  she  writes  to  Mrs.  Dewes,  *  and  the  poor 
man  will  be  distressed,  for  he  will  think  himself  under  a 

151 


MRS.  DELANY 

necessity  to  say  fine  things;  so  to  ease  him  of  further 
trouble,  and  myself  some  confusion,  I  insist  on  your 
sending  the  enclosed  dedication  to  him,  for  I  shall  abso- 
lutely take  it  ill  of  him  if  he  says  anything  in  a  higher 
strain.' 

The  following  was  the  dedication  composed  by  Mrs. 
Delany  herself: — 

4  MADAM, — I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  your 
indulgence  in  giving  me  leave  to  dedicate  part  of  this 
work  to  you ;  and,  as  I  am  informed  you  were  resolved 
against  addresses  of  this  nature,  I  will  not  tire  you  with 
encomiums  on  your  family,  your  person,  or  your  qualifica- 
tions, as  my  intention  in  publishing  the  book  is  to  raise 
the  mind  above  the  common  concerns  of  this  world ;  and 
I  hope  the  examples  here  set  before  you  will  animate  you 
to  good  and  great  actions,  and  then  your  obligation  to  me 
will  be  at  least  equal  to  mine  to  you.1 

Mr.  Ballard  did  not  adopt  this  very  sensible  dedication, 
but  published  his  work  with  the  following  much  more 
commonplace  inscription : — 

4  To  Mrs.  Delany,  the  truest  judge  and  brightest  pattern 
of  all  the  accomplishments  which  adorn  her  sex,  these 
Memoirs  of  Learned  Ladies  in  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries  are  most  humbly  inscribed  by  her 
obedient  servant,  GEORGE  BALLARD.' 

A  propos  of  an  allusion  to  some  'sugar- plum  knotting' 
which  Mrs.  Delany  promises  to  send  her  sister,  Lady 
Llanover  gives  the  following  interesting  account  of 
some  of  the  needlework  which  was  executed  in  such  vast 
quantities  and  such  artistic  fashion  by  the  two  sisters : — 
*  The  editor  has  in  her  possession  a  set  of  covers  for  chairs, 
152 


MRS.  DELANY 

made  of  linen  of  the  most  brilliant  dark  blue,  which  she 
has  never  been  able  to  match.  They  are  bordered  with  a 
beautiful  pattern  by  Mrs.  Delany  of  oak  leaves,  cut  out 
in  white  linen,  and  tacked  down  with  different  sorts  of 
knotting,  which  also  forms  the  veining  and  the  stalks. 
There  are  constant  allusions  in  these  letters  to  sending 
thread  for  knotting  and  to  "  sugar-plum  knotting,"  which 
was  used  for  the  ornamental  parts,  being  highly  embossed- 
Mrs.  Delany  and  her  sister  were  in  the  habit  of  using 
their  knotting-shuttles  (as  was  the  custom  of  the  time) 
at  those  periods  of  relaxation  when  the  German  ladies  use 
their  knitting-needles,  and  the  English  ladies  do  nothing ; 
and  it  is  almost  incredible  the  quantity  of  knotting,  in 
various  patterns  and  colours,  which  was  left  by  Mrs. 
Delany,  and  which  still  exists,  being  the  remains  of  the 
produce  of  tea-table  leisure  hours,  although  such  a  large 
supply  was  required  for  the  works  which  she  completed  in 
this  peculiar  style.' 

But  Mrs.  Delany  found  time  in  those  elastic  days  for 
many  other  occupations  besides  needlework.  '  I  am  going 
to  make  a  very  comfortable  closet,1  she  writes  in  October 
1750,  *  to  have  a  dresser,  and  all  manner  of  working  tools, 
to  keep  all  my  stores  for  painting,  carving,  gilding,  etc., 
for  my  own  room  is  now  so  clean  and  pretty  that  I  cannot 
suffer  it  to  be  strewed  with  litter,  only  books  and  work, 
and  the  closet  belonging  to  it  to  be  given  up  to  prints, 
drawings,  and  my  collection  of  fossils  and  minerals.  My 
storeroom  fits  only  an  idle  mind  that  wants  amusement ; 
yours  serves  either  to  supply  your  hospitable  table,  or 
gives  cordial  and  healing  medicines  to  the  poor  and  sick. 
Your  mind  is  ever  turned  to  help,  relieve,  and  bless  your 
neighbours,  while  mine,  I  fear,  is  too  much  filled  with 
amusements  of  no  real  estimation ;  and  when  people 

153 


MRS.  DELANY 

commend  any  of  my  performances,  I  feel  a  consciousness 
that  my  time  might  have  been  better  employed.  .  .  . 

'  November  17. 

'  I  have  begun  a  Madonna  and  Child  for  the  chapel, 
which  is  a  great  undertaking.  I  have  dead-coloured  the  two 
faces.  ...  I  am  angry  with  you  that  you  sent  my  letters 
to  Mr.  Richardson.  Indeed,  such  careless  and  incorrect 
letters  as  mine  are  to  you  should  not  be  exposed ;  were 
they  put  in  the  best  I  could  put  them  into,  they  have 
nothing  to  recommend  them  but  the  overflowing  of  a 
most  affectionate  heart,  which  can  only  give  pleasure  to 
the  partial  friend  they  are  addressed  to.  .  .  .' 

The  great  interest  that  Mrs.  Delany  took  in  her  sister's 
children,  and  more  especially  in  little  Mary,  led  her  to 
bestow  much  thought  upon  the  question  of  education,  and 
there  are  several  passages  in  the  letters  of  this  period  that 
contain  the  results  of  her  reflections  upon  this  subject. 
In  such  matters  she  was  no  mild  sentimentalist,  but  shared 
the  opinions  of  the  age  in  regard  to  a  firm,  though  tem- 
perate system  of  discipline.  In  November  1750,  when 
Mary  was  not  quite  five  years  old,  she  writes :  '  I  don't 
fear  your  prudence  in  the  management  of  your  children. 
Love,  coupled  with  fear,  are  the  bands  that  most  confine 
them  to  what  is  right.  A  wrong  and  over-indulgent 
conduct  of  parents  to  their  children  is  the  greatest  cruelty 
to  them ;  for  if  they  never  meet  with  contradiction  till 
they  are  of  age  to  engage  in  the  great  concerns  of  life, 
how  will  they  be  able  to  sustain  the  contradictions,  dis- 
appointments, and  mortifications  they  must  encounter  in 
this  world?  But  a  perverse,  injurious  manner  of  contra- 
dicting and  thwarting  them,  and  very  severe  corrections 
for  trifles,  does  them,  I  believe,  as  much  harm  as  a  uni- 
154 


MRS.  DELANY 

versal  indulgence.  Happy  are  my  dear  children,  who  I 
hope  are  born  to  prove  the  golden  mean :  it  is,  I  am 
persuaded,  to  a  very  tender  mother  the  most  self-denying 
principle  to  refuse  that  indulgence,  but  great  is  the  virtue 
and  strong  the  obligation  laid  on  her  to  correct  her  child 
steadily  and  properly.1 

In  a  later  letter  she  continues :  *  About  Mary ;  it  is 
of  much  consequence  to  men  and  women  to  receive  all 
instructions  early;  I  am  sure  as  many  years  after  they 
are  sixteen  is  not  so  advantageous  to  them  as  so  many 
months  before  that  age.  Very  young  minds  are  susceptible 
of  very  strong  impressions ;  they  have  nothing  of  conse- 
quence to  draw  off  their  attention.  As  they  grow  older, 
and  mix  with  company,  the  whole  crowd  of  youthful 
vanities  breaks  in  upon  their  minds,  and  leaves  but  little 
room  for  instruction.  If  Pauline  prove  handsome,  which 
indeed  I  think  she  bids  fair  for,  it  is  in  vain  to  hope  that 
she  can  be  kept  ignorant  of  it ;  all  that  the  wisest  friend 
can  do  for  her  is  to  teach  her  of  how  little  value  beauty 
is — how  few  years  it  lasts,  how  liable  to  be  tarnished,  and 
if  it  has  its  advantages,  what  a  train  of  inconveniences 
also  attend  it ;  that  it  requires  a  double  portion  of  dis- 
cretion to  guard  it,  and  much  more  caution  and  restraint 
than  in  one  that  is  not  handsome.' 

Mrs.  Delany  was  probably  thinking  of  her  own  agitating 
youthful  experiences  when  she  penned  the  above,  as  well 
as  a  subsequent  passage  on  the  subject  of  marriage. 
'Why,'  she  demands,  'must  a  woman  be  driven  to  the 
necessity  of  marrying? — a  state  that  should  always  be  a 
matter  of  choice !  And  if  a  young  woman  has  not 
fortune  sufficient  to  maintain  her  in  the  station  she  has 
been  bred  to,  what  can  she  do  but  many?  And  to 
avoid  living  either  very  obscurely  or  running  into  debt, 

155 


MRS.  DELANY 

she  accepts  of  a  match  with  no  other  view  but  that  of 
interest.  Has  not  this  made  matrimony  an  irksome  prison 
to  many,  and  prevented  its  being  that  happy  union  of 
hearts  where  mutual  choice  and  mutual  obligation  make 
it  the  most  perfect  state  of  friendship.' 

During  the  winter  of  1750-51  Mrs.  Delany  was  employed 
in  painting  her  Madonna,  and  also  in  making  shell-flowers 
for  the  ceiling  of  the  chapel.  Her  chief  reading  con- 
sisted of  Carte's  Life  of  the  Diike  of  Ormonde,  and  The 
Economy  of  Human  Life,  which  she  thinks  a  very  pretty 
book,  all  but  the  chapter  on  Love.  On  November  24, 
she  is  hoping  to  go  to  the  rehearsal  and  the  performance 
of  Handel's  Messiah,  and  adds:  'A  new,  and  therefore 
favourite  performer,  Morella,  is  to  play  the  first  fiddle 
and  conduct  the  whole.  I  am  afraid  his  French  taste 
will  prevail ;  I  shall  not  be  able  to  endure  his  introducing 
froth  and  nonsense  in  that  sublime  and  awful  piece  of 
music.  What  makes  me  fear  this  will  be  the  case  is  that 
in  the  closing  of  the  eighth  Concerto  of  Corelli,  instead  of 
playing  it  clear  and  distinct,  he  filled  it  up  with  frippery 
and  graces  that  quite  destroyed  the  effect  of  the  sweet 
notes  and  solemn  pauses  that  conclude  it.' 

This  fear  proved  to  be  unfounded,  for  in  a  letter  to  her 
brother  a  few  weeks  later,  she  says  :  '  I  was  at  the  rehearsal 
and  performance  of  the  Messiah ;  and  though  voices  and 
hands  were  wanting  to  do  it  justice,  it  was  very  tolerably 
performed,  and  gave  me  great  pleasure — 'tis  heavenly. 
Morella  conducted  it,  and  I  expected  would  have  spoiled 
it,  but  I  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  the  contrary; 
he  came  out  with  great  applause.  I  thought  it  would 
be  impossible  for  his  wild  fancy  and  fingers  to  have  kept 
within  bounds;  but  Handel's  music  inspired  and  awed 
him.  He  is  young,  modest,  and  well  behaved,  I  am  told ; 
156 


MRS.  DELANY 

t 

and  were  he  to  play  under  Mr.  Handel's  direction  two  or 
three  years,  would  make  a  surprising  player.  We  are  so 
fond  of  him  here  that  were  it  known  I  gave  this  hint  I 
should  be  expelled  all  musical  society,  as  they  so  much 
fear  he  should  be  tempted  to  leave  us.' 

At  Christmas  she  writes  to  her  sister :  '  D.  D.  employs 
me  every  hour  in  the  day  for  his  chapel.  I  make  the 
flowers  and  other  ornaments  by  candle-light,  and  by 
daylight,  when  I  don't  paint,  put  together  the  festoons 
that  are  for  the  ceiling,  and  after  supper  we  play  one 
pool  at  commerce.  Our  everyday  reading  is  still  Carte's 
History  of  the  Duke  of  Ormonde.  He  is  one  of  the 
greatest  heroes  I  ever  read  of,  such  courage,  prudence, 
loyalty,  humanity,  and  virtues  of  every  kind  make  up  his 
character;  but  the  sufferings  of  King  Charles  the  First, 
though  here  but  in  part  related,  break  one's  heart.  I 
think  the  periods  too  long ;  there  is  a  repetition  of  facts 
that  might  have  been  avoided ;  and  it  is  upon  the  whole 
rather  tedious,  but  the  subject  is  so  interesting  that  it 
carries  one  along.  Our  Sunday  reading  is  the  Minute 
Philosopher.  What  a  work  of  genius  is  that !  How 
beautiful  the  style,  and  for  sense  and  wit  surely  nothing 
can  exceed  it !  I  thought  it  at  first  reading  more  abstruse 
than  I  do  now,  though  there  are  very  few  pages  but  what 
you  will  perfectly  understand  with  close  attention.' 

In  the  letters  for  January  1751  there  are  allusions  to  the 
illness  or  deaths  of  two  of  Mrs.  Delany's  former  lovers. 
'  I  saw  in  the  newspapers  that  Lord  Baltimore  is  ill,'  she 
writes.  '  Is  he  dead  ?  He  had  some  good  qualities ;  I 
wonder  where  his  poor  sister  Hyde  is ;  I  wish  he  may 
have  done  something  for  her.  I  fear  his  poor  children 
at  Epsom  have  been  sadly  neglected.  .  .  .  Last  Thursday 
satisfied  all  my  desires,  and  brought  me  one  of  your 

157 


MRS.  DELANY 

charming  letters,  and  one  from  my  brother,  with  an 
account  of  Lord  Weymouth  having  left  his  sisters  ^4000 
a  piece.  You  should,  and  I  suppose  you  did,  wear  mourn- 
ing a  fortnight  for  Lord  Weymouth. 

'March  16. 

'  On  Monday,  madam,  I  give  a  sumptuous  ball !  Seven 
couple  of  young  things  !  Oh  that  my  little  dewdrops  were 
here  to  hop  with  them  !  The  ball  begins  at  eleven  in  the 
morning,  and  is  to  last  till  half  after  two ;  then  dinner,  and  if 
not  tired  an  hour's  dancing  afterwards.  I  had  the  joy  of 
your  letter  last  Monday,  as  I  was  going  to  the  town  to  buy 
mourning  for  the  Prince  of  Wales.  I  sincerely  lament  his 
death.  He  had  amiable  qualities,  and  I  pity  the  Princess 
of  Wales  excessively.  She  can  have  no  friend  to  make  up 
such  a  loss,  and  royalty  is  denied  many  comforts  which  sub- 
jects enjoy.  The  dignity  of  her  station  requires  her  to 
appear  in,  and  receive  crowds,  when  her  mind  is  oppressed 
with  sorrow  which  would  rather  seek  the  darkest  shade/ 

The  summer  passed  in  the  usual  quiet  fashion,  and 
winter  and  its  gaieties  came  round  again.  It  is  very 
seldom  that  there  is  even  a  spark  of  malice  or  un- 
charitableness  in  Mrs.  Delany's  letters ;  but  in  one,  dated 
November  2,  1751,  she  indulges  in  a  little  sarcasm  at 
the  expense  of  a  neighbour,  probably  her  old  acquaint- 
ance, Mrs.  Clayton.  'I  suppose  I  must  give  you  an 
account  of  the  Birthday,'  she  writes.  '  I  went  to  Madam 
in  my  coach  at  twelve  o'clock ;  she  was  in  her  sedan  with 
her  three  footmen  in  Saxon  green,  with  orange-coloured 
cockades,  marched  in  state — I  humbly  followed.  A  stop 
kept  me  about  half  an  hour  on  the  way ;  she  got  to  the 
castle  without  interruption,  and  went  on  to  the  dra wing- 
room  directly.  Can  you  tell  why  she  desired  me  to  go 
158  " 


MRS.  DELANY 

with  her?  I  can.  She  was  superb  in  brown  and  gold 
and  diamonds ;  I  was  clad  in  the  purple  and  white  silk  I 
bought  last  year  in  England,  and'  my  littleness  set  off  her 
greatness  !  These  odd  fancies  make  me  laugh  and  not  a 
bit  angry ;  only  rather  self-satisfied  that  I  feel  above  doing 
the  things  that  make  others  so  despicable.1 

Perhaps  this  same  lady  was  in  Mrs.  Delany's  mind 
when,  in  a  letter  written  during  the  same  month  to  the 
Duchess  of  Portland,  she  says :  '  I  am  now  a  very  old 
woman,  though  not  yet  threescore ;  but  as  to  my  knowledge 
of  the  little  world  that  has  come  under  my  observation, 
I  am  convinced  that  the  greatest  happiness  we  can  enjoy 
is  to  be  able  to  command  our  temper — it  is  better  to  us 
than  riches  or  honour,  or  even  health;  without  it  we 
suffer  more  pain  and  anxiety  by  our  fretfulness  than  many 
distempers  give  us,  and  torment  and  vex  everybody  about 
us.  Is  not  this  true,  my  dearest  Lady  Duchess  ?  It  is 
conjecture  in  me,  but  in  you  certainty.1 

About  this  time  Mrs.  Delany's  favourite  novelist,  Mr. 
Richardson,  was  engaged  upon  Sir  Charles  Grandison,  the 
book  wherein  he  purposed  to  portray  a  man  who  should  hold 
up  as  shining  an  example  to  his  sex  as  Clarissa  was  supposed 
to  have  done  to  hers.  '  I  fear  it  will  be  a  long  time,1  she 
writes,  'before  Mr.  Richardson's  good  man  is  produced, 
and  I  am  afraid  his  health  will  suffer  from  his  too  close 
attention  to  it.  He  has  undertaken  a  very  hard  task, 
which  is  to  please  the  gay  and  the  good,  but  Mrs. 
Donnellan  says  as  far  as  he  has  gone  he  has  succeeded 
wonderfully.  .  .  .  Donnellan  commends  Miss  Mulso^ 
letters,  but  does  not  so  well  like  the  young  woman ; 
that  is,  she  admires  her  sense  and  ingenuity,  but  thinks 
her  only  second-rate  as  to  politeness  of  manner ;  and  that 
Richardson^  high  admiration  for  her  has  made  him  take 

159 


MRS.  DELANY 

her  as  a  model  for  his  greatest  characters,  and  that  is  the 
reason  they  are  not  really  so  polished  as  he  takes  them  to 
be.1  Miss  Hester  Mulso,  a  noted  blue-stocking,  married  a 
son  of  Mrs.  Delany's  old  friend,  Sally  Chapone,  and  pro- 
duced in  her  Letters  to  a  Young-  Lady  on  the  Improvement 
of  the  Mind  what  was  regarded  as  the  standard  work  on 
female  education  of  her  time. 

In  the  same  year  the  publication  by  Lord  Orrery  of  a 
Life  of  Swift  filled  the  hearts  of  both  the  Delanys  with 
indignation.  Mary  especially  was,  as  she  observes,  made 
'  so  angry  at  the  unfriendly,  ungenerous  manner  of  Swift's 
being  treated  by  one  who  calls  him  his  friend  that  it  quite 
prejudices  me  against  the  book,  and  casts  a  cloud  over  all 
its  merit ;  every  failing  is  exposed,  every  fault  is  magni- 
fied, every  virtue  almost  either  tarnished  or  concealed ! 
I  have  not  time  to  tell  you  my  particular  objections, 
which  are  indeed  very  numerous.  But  one  thing  I  must 
observe,  that  Lord  Orrery  makes  no  mention  of  Swift's 
singular,  wise,  and  extensive  charities,  yet  calls  himself 
his  friend !  He  tells  of  his  resentment,  with  the  strongest 
reflection  on  his  pride,  at  his  sister's  marrying  a  tradesman, 
but  does  not  tell  you  he  allowed  her  £%5  a  year  to  his 
death,  yet  calls  himself  bis  friend  \  He  calls  his  being 
void  of  all  envy  "  pride  of  his  own  superior  talents,"  yet 
calls  himself  his  friend.  Such  a  friend  that,  Brutus-like, 
gives  the  deepest  and  surest  wound.  ...  I  must  write 
and  provoke  or  entreat  Sally  [Mrs.  Chapone]  to  take  him 
in  hand,  and  expose  this  coxcomb  of  a  friend,  as  he 
presumes  to  call  himself.  ...  I  am  serious  in  what 
I  say  about  Sally's  answering  this  book,  but  she  must 
be  for  ever  concealed,  and  not  discover  the  author  to 
be  a  woman.'' 

In  the  end  it  was  Dr.  Delany  himself  who  took  Lord 
160 


MRS.  DELANY 

Orrery  in  hand,  and  wrote  an  able  answer  to  the  Life,  and 
a  warm  defence  of  his  dead  friend. 

The  year  1752,  which  should  have  been  made  happy 
by  a  visit  to  England,  opened  rather  gloomily  for  the 
couple  at  Delville.  Mary  writes  to  her  sister  on  January  3 : 
'I  have  often  thought  of  late  my  lot  most  singularly 
happy,  more  so  than  is  generally  met  with  in  this  world 
of  woe ;  a  husband  of  infinite  merit,  and  deservedly  most 
dear  to  me ;  a  sister  whose  delicate  and  uncommon  friend- 
ship makes  me  the  envy  of  all  other  sisters ;  a  brother  of 
worth  and  honour;  and  a  friend  in  the  Duchess  of  Portland, 
not  to  be  equalled,  besides  so  many  other  friends,  that 
make  up  together  the  sum  of  my  happiness.  But  what 
a  debt  have  I  to  pay !  I  am  truly  sensible  of  my  own 
unworthiness,  and  that  all  these  advantages  are  not  to  be 
enjoyed  without  a  considerable  alloy ;  and  as  my  inmost 
thoughts  have  ever  been  laid  open  to  the  sister  of  my 
heart,  I  must  now  unburden  my  mind.  D.  D/s  love  to 
me,  I  think,  is  as  unquestionable  as  any  mortal  love  can 
be,  and  the  generosity  of  his  sentiments  as  well  known ; 
but  he  is  most  extremely  harassed  with  his  lawsuits,  and 
another  is  commenced  against  him  by  a  mistake  committed 
on  his  side  of  a  form  at  law  by  the  Presbyteries — those 
querulous  people  !  Thank  God,  his  fortune  is  too  good  to 
suffer  very  considerably  by  these  attacks,  but  suffer  in 
some  degree  we  must,  and  it  is  absolutely  necessary  we 
should  act  with  caution  and  prudence  till  we  are  so  happy 
as  to  get  out  of  the  jaws  of  the  law — that  beast  of  prey ! 
There  is  murmuring  at  his  not  living  more  at  his  Deanery, 
and  being  absent  so  long  from  it  when  we  go  to  England. 
This,  you  may  believe,  is  very  vexatious  to  me,  as  it  is  on 
my  account  he  goes." 

The  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  was  that  Mary 

L  161 


MRS.  DELANY 

had  made  up  her  mind  that  it  was  her  duty  to  give  up 
the  longed-for  visit  to  England  that  year.  It  was  a 
tremendous  sacrifice;  and  her  husband,  knowing  how  much 
it  meant  to  her,  had  not  found  the  heart  to  suggest  it  to 
her,  though  it  seemed  almost  impossible  that  he  could 
leave  home  for  so  long  a  time  while  his  affairs  were  in 
such  a  troubled  state.  This  time  of  trial  brought  out 
the  best  qualities  of  both  husband  and  wife.  Dr.  Delany 
suggested  that  his  wife  should  go  to  England  for  a  few 
months  while  he  went  alone  to  his  Deanery  at  Down,  but 
this  unselfish  proposal  she  resolutely  rejected.  Then, 
unknown  to  her,  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Dewes,  urging  in  the 
kindest  and  most  generous  terms  that  she  and  her  husband 
should  come  and  spend  the  summer  at  Delville,  bringing 
with  them  their  little  girl. 

'  These  are  the  terms,'  he  explains, '  upon  which  I  desire 
and  expect  you :  I  will  send  Mr.  Gavan's  coach  and  six 
from  Chester  for  you,  which  shall  set  you  down  safe  at 
Park  Gate,  where  I  will  appoint  the  best  vessel  on  the 
coast,  the  Minerva,  with  the  civillest  and  soberest  master, 
to  meet  you  at  your  own  day,  and  convey  you  hither 
before  the  14th  of  May  next  (I  trust  in  God)  in  safety, 
and  in  that  season  with  little  or  no  sickness. 

'You  must  come  at  my  expense — I  will  receive  you 
upon  no  other  terms — and  then  you  shall  go  home  at  your 
own !  I  won't  be  at  the  expense  of  one  penny  to  get  rid 
of  you  !  I  insist  on  your  staying  with  us  at  least  three 
months,  and  shall  be  most  heartily  rejoiced  and  highly 
obliged  for  your  staying  as  much  longer  as  you  can.  .  .  . 
I  have  no  more  to  add,  but  that  if  I  live  till  to-morrow 
I  shall  be  sixty-seven  years  old;  and  as  I  can't  go  to 
England  this  year,  I  leave  you  to  make  the  inference  and 
application;  and  shall  only  add  for  myself  that  if  my 
162 


MRS.  DELANY 

dear  brother  Dewes  and  you  will  grant  me  this  request, 
I  shall  be  to  the  last  day  of  my  life  to  both  your  most 
affectionate,  faithful,  and  obliged  brother,  friend,  and 
servant."1 

But,  alas !  the  journey  to  Ireland  was  looked  upon  as 
a  tremendous  undertaking  in  1752,  and  the  Dewes  had 
four  young  children,  as  well  as  an  estate  to  superintend, 
so  that  they  felt  obliged  to  decline  Dr.  Delanys  invitation. 
When  once  the  matter  was  finally  settled,  Mary  seems  to 
have  borne  the  disappointment  with  her  usual  philosophy, 
and  the  letters  soon  regain  their  wonted  cheerfulness,  in 
spite  of  the  lawsuits  that  were  dragging  their  slow 
length  along. 


163 


CHAPTER    XI 

(1752-175G) 

THE  theatre  was  always  a  popular  institution  in  Dublin, 
and  patronised  by  sober  dignitaries  of  the  Church  as  well 
as  by  the  laity.  'Mrs.  Woffington  is  much  improved,1 
writes  Mrs.  Delany  towards  the  end  of  January,  *  and  did 
the  part  of  Lady  Townley  last  Saturday  better  than  I 
have  seen  it  done  since  Mrs.  Oldfield's  time.  Her  person 
is  fine,  her  arms  a  little  ungainly,  her  voice  disagreeable, 
but  she  pronounces  her  Avords  perfectly  well,  and  she 
speaks  sensibly.  Mr.  Sheridan l  is  a,  just  actor,  but  rather 
a  dull  one ;  he  is  going  to  give  a  play  gratis  to  raise  a 
sum  of  money  to  erect  a  monument  to  Swift.  .  .  .  We 
are  reading  Mr.  Fielding's  Amelia.  Mrs.  Donnellan  and  I 
don't  like  it  at  all ;  D.  D.  won't  listen  to  it.  It  has  a 
more  moral  design  than  appears  in  Joseph  Andrews  or 
Tom  Jones,  but  has  not  so  much  humour;  it  neither 
makes  one  laugh  or  cry,  though  there  are  some  very 
dismal  scenes  described,  but  there  is  something  wanting 
to  make  them  touching.  Our  next  important  reading 
will  be  Betsy  Thoughtless  [by  Mrs.  Hey  wood];  I  wish 
Richardson  would  publish  his  good  man.,  and  put  all 
these  frivolous  authors  out  of  countenance.  .  .  . 

'  February  15. 

*  Last  Tuesday  we  dined  at  the  Bishop  of  Elphin's ;  he 
1  Thomas  Sheridan. 

164 


MRS.  DELANY 

is  the  son  of  an  Archbishop  of  Tuam  who  has  published 
some  very  good  works,  one  I  believe  you  have  read — The 
Gentleman  s  Religion.  The  Bishop  of  Elphin  is  one  of 
our  most  considerable  men,  and  has  only  one  daughter, 
who  will  be  a  vast  fortune,  and  is  brought  up  like  a 
princess ;  she  is  a  fine  young  woman  about  nineteen ;  all 
the  young  men  of  consequence,  they  say,  have  already 
proposed,  but  her  father  declares  he  will  listen  to  no 
proposal  till  she  is  twenty-one.  We  had  a  magnificent 
dinner,  extremely  well  dressed  and  well  attended,  and  a 
dessert  the  finest  I  ever  saw  in  Ireland.  The  Bishop  lives 
constantly  very  well,  and  it  becomes  his  station  and 
fortune,  but  high  living  is  too  much  the  fashion  here. 
You  are  not  invited  to  dinner  to  any  private  gentleman 
of  a  thousand  a  year  or  less  that  does  not  give  you  seven 
dishes  at  one  course,  and  Burgundy  and  Champagne ;  and 
these  dinners  they  give  once  or  twice  a  week.  I  own  I 
am  surprised  how  they  manage,  for  we  cannot  afford  any- 
thing like  it  with  a  much  better  income  than  they.' 

The  lawsuit,  which  concerned  some  paper  relating  to 
the  property  of  his  first  wife,  that  Dr.  Delany,  in  the 
innocence  or  ignorance  of  his  heart  had  destroyed,  still 
occupied  the  Courts,  and  in  July  1752  a  decision  adverse 
to  the  Dean  was  given  ;  but  the  Lord  Chancellor's  decree 
settling  the  amount  to  be  refunded  was  put  off'  until  the 
winter  term,  and  meanwhile  there  were  offers  from  the 
other  side  of  a  compromise.  Later,  the  Dean  appealed 
against  the  decision  of  the  Dublin  Court,  and  the  judgment 
was  reversed ;  but  it  is  needless  to  follow  this  unfortunate 
affair  in  detail.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  it  cost  the  Delanys 
much,  not  only  in  money,  but  in  many  years  of  anxiety 
and  suspense.  The  necessity  for  retrenchment  was  the 
most  trivial  of  its  consequences  in  the  eyes  of  Mrs. 

165 


MRS.  DELANY 

Delany,  but  it  was  intolerable  to  her  that  the  least 
shadow  of  a  slur  should  be  cast  upon  the  fair  name  of 
her  husband. 

The  summer  passed  uneventfully  at  Down ;  and  after 
the  return  to  Delville,  Mrs.  Delany  writes :  '  We  are 
now  in  daily  expectation  of  our  sentence ;  I  wish  I  could 
prevent  D.  D/s  anxiety  on  my  account.  I  am  perfectly 
well,  and  one  consolation  we  have,  which  no  malice  of  our 
enemies  can  destroy — a  conscience  perfectly  clear  of  charge. 
Till  our  affairs  are  determined  we  keep  quiet,  and  see  only 
our  particular  friends.  ...  I  am  much  obliged  to  little 
Jacky  for  the  first  efforts  of  his  genius  as  a  painter,  and 
have  put  his  pretty  sketch  safely  by.  I  am  sorry  you  are 
not  so  pleased  with  riding  double  as  single ;  it  is  warmer 
and  safer,  and  I  hope  you  will  pursue  it,  as  it  certainly 
has  always  agreed  with  you.  .  .  . 

'  Poor  Handel !  how  feelingly  must  he  recall  the  total 
eclipse. 

' "  Total  eclipse  !  no  sun,  no  moon  ! 
All  dark  amidst  the  blazing  noon  ! 
O  glorious  light  !  no  charming  ray 
To  glad  my  eyes  with  welcome  day ; 
Why  thus  deprived  thy  prime  decree  ? 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars  are  dark  to  me." 

You  know,  Handel  became  blind  in  1  751 ;  I  hear  he  has 
now  been  couched,  and  found  some  benefit  from  it. 

f  December  30. 

*  Now  that  we  have  had  time  to  think  over  what  passed 
on  Saturday,  it  does  not  appear  so  bad  as  at  first.  [The 
Chancellor,  previous  to  his  final  decree,  ordered  that  an 
account  should  be  taken  of  all  the  effects  in  the  con- 
troversy, and  this  settling  of  accounts  was  expected  to 
last  over  three  or  four  years.]  The  necessary  delay  may 
166 


MRS.  DELANY 

give  time  for  some  happy  turn  in  our  affairs ;  and  though 
in  appearance  we  are  hardly  dealt  with,  God  of  His  infinite 
mercy  may  intend  it  for  a  blessing.  As  to  loss  of  fortune, 
I  trust  we  can  very  well  bear  that ;  and  should  they  take 
all  that  came  from  Mrs.  Tennison,  we  shall  still  have 
more  left  than  a  reasonable  competency.1 

The  next  year  the  long-deferred  visit  to  England  took 
place.  Writing  in  May  1753,  Mrs.  Delany  says  :  '  I  had 
yesterday  a  letter  from  my  brother.  He  proposed  setting 
out  from  Calwich  the  next  day,  in  order  to  be  in  London  to 
meet  me  the  latter  end  of  June.  I  hope  to  be  able  to  answer 
his  challenge.  Mrs.  Donnellan  has  a  spare  room  in  her 
house  for  D.  D.  and  me,  and  we  shall  accept  her  offer 
when  we  have  rested  and  revived  ourselves  at  dear  Welles- 
bourne.  My  dearest  sister,  how  fair  and  sunshiny  every- 
thing looks  when  that  is  in  prospect.  .  .  . 

'  I  must  speak  of  my  poor  Lord  Hyde,  whose  death  has 
indeed  shocked  me  extremely,  though  I  hope  and  believe 
he  was  so  good  that  it  makes  the  sudden  stroke  less  dread- 
ful. I  most  heartily  pity  the  Duchess  of  Queensberry  ;  but 
if  it  gives  her  a  serious  and  right  way  of  thinking,  the  event, 
melancholy  as  it  is,  may  prove  a  happiness  to  her ;  and  as 
she  has  good  sense  and  many  good  qualities,  I  hope  she 
will  make  a  proper  use  of  this  great  chastisement.  If  I 
could  write  an  eulogium  as  elegantly  as  Madame  de  Sevigne, 
I  should  not  quit  this  subject  till  I  had  done  justice  to 
the  excellencies  of  Lord  Hyde;  I  can  only  admire  and 
love  his  memory.  .  .  . 

'  There  is  nothing  I  wish  so  much  for  Mary,  next  to 
right  religious  principles,  as  a  proper  knowledge  of  the 
polite  world.  It  is  the  only  means  of  keeping  her  safe 
from  an  immoderate  love  of  its  vanities  and  follies,  and 
of  giving  her  that  sensible  kind  of  reserve  which  great 

167 


MRS.  DELANY 

retirement  converts  either  into  awkward  sheepishness  or 
forward  pertness.' 

In  July  the  Delanys  are  in  town  for  a  short  time  to 
consult  Lord  Granville1  and  other  influential  friends  about 
the  appeal  in  their  lawsuit,  and  then  the  sisters  spent 
four  happy  months  together  at  Wellesbourne  and  Chelten- 
ham. In  November  Mrs.  Delany  writes  from  Bulstrode, 
where  she  found  the  Duchess  of  Portland  and  her  daughters 
engaged  on  a  variety  of  ingenious  works.  '  Her  daughters,' 
writes  Mary,  'are  as  sweet  and  engaging  as  possible;  Lady 
Elizabeth  and  Lady  Henrietta  are  very  lively  and  easy  in 
manner,  and  under  no  further  restraint  before  the  Duchess 
than  to  watch  her  looks  and  motions,  and  instantly  to 
obey  them.  Lady  Margaret  is  more  silent  and  reserved, 
but  there  is  something  very  gentle  and  sensible  in  her  look, 
and  I  hope  she  will  grow ;  Lord  Titchfield  has  a  great 
reputation  at  school,  and  he  behaves  himself  very  well  in 
every  respect ;  Lord  Edward  is  a  lovely  child,  but  shows 
not  the  same  genius  to  learning  his  brother  does.  .  .  .' 

There  is  a  good  deal  in  the  letters  about  the  Duchess's 
improvements  in  house  and  grounds,  about  her  wonderful 
menagerie,  and  most  of  all  about  Richardson's  latest 
masterpiece,  which  had  lately  appeared.  'I  am  all  im- 
patience for  you  to  read  Sir  Charles  GrandisonJ  writes 
Mrs.  Delany  on  November  20.  '  Oh,  how  you  will  admire 
him !  but  I  dare  not  particularise  anything  for  fear  of 
forestalling;  I  have  only  read  two  volumes;  don't  tell 
me  your  opinion  further  than  that  till  I  have  read  more.' 

The  sisters  were  evidently  enjoying  the  book  at  the 
same  time,  and  they  must  have  read  quickly,  for  on 
December  3  Mary  writes  again — 

'  And  now  for  Sir  Charles ;  we  have  talked  about  the 
1  Lord  Carteret  became  Earl  Granville  in  1744. 

168 


MRS.  DELANY 

beginning,  and  agree  in  our  opinion.  From  the  time  that 
Sir  Charles  rescues  Harriet,  the  story  and  characters  rise, 
his  hero  is  as  faultless  as  mortal  hero  can  be :  I  wish, 
indeed,  we  could  match  him ;  there  is  grace  and  dignity 
in  everything  he  says  and  does.  No  wonder,  with  the 
addition  of  so  high  an  obligation  as  that  of  saving  her 
from  the  vile  Sir  Hargreave,  Harriet's  heart  should  be 
so  deeply  engaged;  how  natural  are  all  her  doubts  and 
apprehensions !  .  .  .  Emily's  innocence  and  childishness 
make  an  agreeable  variety,  but  she  ought  not  to  have 
been  in  love !  She  was  too  young  to  be  won  by  the 
shining  virtues  of  her  guardian ;  they  should  rather  have 
given  her  an  awe  for  him  as  a  parent,  unless  he  had  not 
been  the  man  he  was,  and  had  courted  her  love,  for  he 
treats  her  as  a  favourite  child.  ...  As  to  the  Italian 
story,  it  is  one  of  the  finest  things  I  ever  read  in  my  life ; 
was  ever  such  a  superb  family  described  ?  What  a  divine 
creature  Clementina  !  What  a  madness  hers  !  Was  ever 
Christian  fortitude  put  to  a  greater  trial  considering  her 
religion  ?  And  great  as  Sir  Charles  is,  Clementina  has  a 
superiority  over  him ;  his  distress  is  touching  to  the  last 
degree,  but  everywhere  he  keeps  up  his  character  nobly. 
.  .  .  The  style  is  better  in  most  places  than  that  of 
Clarissa,  but  nothing  can  ever  equal  that  work.' 

The  only  blot  upon  Sir  Charles's  character,  in  Mrs. 
Delany's  opinion,  was  the  fact  of  his  consenting  to  have  his 
daughters  brought  up  Catholics.  '  Had  a  woman  written 
the  story,'  she  observes,  'she  would  have  thought  the 
daughters  of  as  much  consequence  as  the  sons,  and  when 
I  see  Mr.  llichardson,  I  shall  call  him  to  account  for  that 
Jaux  pas  ;  but,  on  the  whole,  it  is  a  most  excellent  book, 
calculated  to  please  and  inform  all  ages.' 

In  January  1754  the  Delanys  took  lodgings  in  Suffolk 

169 


MRS.  DELANY 

Street,  and  on  the  29th  Mrs.  Delany  writes:  'On  Saturday 
the  Dean  was  perfectly  well,  only  complained  of  a  weakness 
and  watering  in  his  left  eye.  We  dined  at  home,  and  in 
the  afternoon  I  went  to  see  Mrs.  Donnellan.  On  my  return 
the  Dean  was  just  as  I  left  him;  when  I  met  him  at 
breakfast  his  left  eye  was  much  fallen,  and  his  mouth 
drawn  a  little  awry.  I  immediately  apprehended  what 
it  was ;  but  as  he  did  not  perceive  it  himself,  I  was  loath 
to  take  notice  of  it ;  and  as  he  had  promised  to  read 
prayers  to  Mrs.  Donnellan,  I  sent  to  Dr.  Heberden,  her 
physician,  to  meet  us  there.  The  Dean  read  prayers  very 
well,  but  his  voice  was  not  quite  clear,  which  he  took  notice 
of  himself ;  and  in  looking  in  the  glass  saw  what  indeed 
had  terrified  me  to  such  a  degree  that  I  hardly  knew  what  I 
did.  I  thank  God  no  bad  symptom  has  increased ;  he  was 
cupped  on  Sunday  night,  and  had  a  perpetual  blister  laid 
on,  and  takes  valerian  and  other  mixtures.  It  is  un- 
doubtedly an  attack  of  the  palsy,  but  everybody  assures 
me  it  was  as  slight  as  such  an  attack  could  be,  and  that 
by  such  early  care  I  need  not  doubt  his  recovery.  The 
law  matters  are  now  as  nothing  to  me !  My  whole  mind 
is  set  on  the  care  of  his  health.1 

Fortunately,  the  disease  soon  yielded  to  treatment,  and 
Mary  had  the  comfort  of  her  sister's  presence  during  this 
period  of  anxiety.  In  May  Mrs.  Dewes  returned  to  Welles- 
bourne,  and  Mrs.  Delany  writes  :  '  Though  I  hope  to  follow 
my  dearest  friends  soon,  I  could  not  part  with  them  without 
the  utmost  reluctance.  My  dear  and  most  amiable  sister 
came  to  me  when  my  heart  was  full  of  woe  and  gave  me 
consolation.  Many  things  happened  when  you  were  here 
to  alarm  and  distress  you,  and  is  it  not  true  that  the 
obligation  is  all  on  our  side  ?  I  thank  God  the  scene  has 
now  changed  for  a  more  hopeful  and  cheering  one."1 

170  ^ 


MRS.  DELANY 

There  was  a  probability  of  an  appeal  against  the 
decision  in  the  lawsuit ;  and  as  Dr.  Delany's  presence  was 
required  in  England,  it  was  decided  that  he  and  his  wife 
should  go  to  Ireland  for  the  summer  months,  and  return 
to  London  in  the  autumn.  They  set  out  in  June,  taking 
with  them  Sally  Chapone  the  younger,  Mrs.  Delany's 
god-daughter,  as  well  as  the  Rambler  and  the  Adven- 
turer to  entertain  them  on  their  journey.  In  October 
they  were  back  at  Bulstrode,  and  from  thence  went  to 
Whitehall,  where  they  stayed  until  they  could  take 
possession  of  a  house  in  Spring  Gardens,  which  Dr.  Delany 
had  bought  and  presented  to  his  wife.  On  November  10 
Mrs.  Delany  writes  :  '  Mrs.  Donnellan  has  been  so  full  of 
our  Brunette's  [Sally  Chapone]  ungrateful  behaviour  to 
Mr.  Richardson  and  his  family  that  she  talks  of  nothing 
else.  How  well  my  dear  sister  observes  on  her  want  of 
true  humility.  God  grant  it  to  her,  for  the  best  medicine 
in  the  apothecary's  shop  cannot  be  of  so  much  use  to  her 
as  that  would  be  to  her  mind  and  body.  Mr.  Richardson 
was  with  me  yesterday,  and  I  expostulated  with  him  on 
Sally's  account ;  he  is  really  very  angry,  but  kindly  so ; 
and  if  she  writes  a  kind  letter  of  excuse  to  Mr.  Richard- 
son, and  soon  after  to  Miss  Patty,  all  will  be  well.  It  is 
only  a  kind  of  jealous  fit ;  how  that  little  fiend,  jealousy, 
torments  the  best  minds  sometimes ;  but  perfect  generous 
love  surely  casteth  out  jealousy  as  well  as  fear.  .  .  . 

'Yesterday,  after  chapel,  the  Duchess  brought  Lady 
Coventry  [one  of  the  beautiful  Gunnings]  to  feast  me, 
and  a  feast  she  was.  She  is  a  fine  figure,  and  vastly  hand- 
some, notwithstanding  a  silly  look  sometimes  about  her 
mouth ;  she  has  a  thousand  airs,  but  with  a  sort  of 
innocence  that  diverts  one.  Her  dress  was  a  black  silk 
sack,  made  for  a  large  hoop,  which  she  wore  without  one, 

171 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  it  trailed  a  yard  on  the  ground ;  she  had  on  a  cob- 
webbed  lace  handkerchief,  a  pink  satin  long  cloak,  lined 
with  ermine  mixed  with  squirrel  skins;  on  her  head  a 
French  cap  that  just  covered  the  top  of  her  head,  of 
blond,  that  stood  in  the  form  of  a  butterfly,  with  its  wings 
not  quite  extended,  frilled  sort  of  lappets  crossing  under 
her  chin,  and  tied  with  pink  and  green  ribbon — a  head- 
dress that  would  have  charmed  a  shepherd !  She  has  a 
thousand  dimples  and  prettinesses  in  her  cheeks,  her  eyes 
a  little  drooping  at  the  corners,  but  fine  for  all  that.  .  .  . 
Lord  Dartmouth  has  just  been  to  see  me,  and  engaged 
me  to  visit  his  lady.  I  said  I  thought  myself  too  old  to 
visit  young  ladies  ;  he  laughed  at  me,  and  said,  "  Try,  and 
if  she  don't  like  you,  I  hope  I  may  keep  up  my  acquaint- 
ance with  an  old  friend  I  like  so  much."  He  i-s  Sir  Charles 
Grandson !  How  charming  is  politeness !  His  ways  are 
just  his  mother's.1 

The  new  house  was  a  great  source  of  interest  and 
pleasure,  and  Mrs.  Delany  was  eagerly  looking  forward  to 
the  time  when  she  might  receive  her  sister  and  brother-in- 
law  within  her  own  walls.  'The  house  is  small,1  she 
writes,  '  but  very  pretty  and  convenient,  and  in  a  delight- 
ful situation.  If  I  don't  fill  my  letter  with  "  my  house," 
you  may  be  obliged  to  me.  ...  It  is  pleasant  to  be 
possessed  with  things  that  please  one ;  it  is  like  viewing  a 
fine  picture  through  a  magnifying  glass — one  enjoys  every 
part  of  it.  I  was  not  born  to  be  a  philosopher ;  Nature 
has  not  thrown  in  enough  indifference  in  my  composition, 
nor  has  art  attained  it ;  in  short,  I  like,  love,  and  dislike 
with  all  my  might,  and  the  pain  it  sometimes  costs  me  is 
recompensed  by  the  pleasure.1 

At  Christmas  the  whole  party  were  at  Bulstrode,  when 
smallpox  broke  out,  Lord  Edward  Bentinck,  the  second 
172 


MRS.  DELANY 

son  of  the  house,  being  the  first  victim.  Ideas  on  the 
subject  of  infection  and  quarantine  were  primitive  enough, 
the  more  so  because  smallpox  was  regarded  very  much  as 
measles  are  in  our  own  day,  that  is,  as  a  disease  which 
few  can  hope  to  escape,  and  which  it  is  as  well  to  get  over 
in  early  youth.  The  three  young  daughters  were  given 
their  choice,  to  stay  where  they  were,  or  go  to  Whitehall, 
and  they  all  begged  to  stay,  declaring  that  they  should  be 
miserable  at  leaving  their  mother.  No  attempt  was 
made  to  prevent  the  spread  of  infection,  and  the  three 
girls  took  the  disease,  one  after  the  other.  All  recovered 
in  time,  though  their  complexions  suffered,  in  spite  of  the 
application  of  a  decoction  of  rotten  apples  recommended 
by  Mrs.  Dewes.  At  this  time  inoculation  was  occasionally 
practised,  but  it  was  regarded  as  a  risky  operation,  and 
was  frequently  attended  with  fatal  results. 

By  the  beginning  of  February  all  were  well  again,  and 
Mrs.  Delany  is  able  to  send  other  news  than  that  of  the 
sickroom.  'The  prettiest  story  I  heard  of  the  mas- 
querade at  Somerset  House,''  she  writes,  '  was  of  Miss 
Allen,  Lady  Carysforfs  sister,  who  is  a  lively  sort  of  a 
fairy,  not  very  conversant  with  the  gay  world,  and  never 
goes  to  Court ;  she  was  at  the  masquerade,  and  had  never 
seen  Lady  Coventry ;  it  was  at  the  time  that  many  were 
unmasked,  but  she  had  her  mask  on.  She  went  to  Lady 
Coventry,  and  looking  at  her  very  earnestly,  said,  "  I  have 
heard  a  great  deal  of  this  lady's  beauty,  but  it  far  sur- 
passes all  I  have  heard."  "What,"  said  Lady  C.,  "did 
you  never  see  me  before  ?  "  A  young  man  that  stood  by 
said  to  the  mask,  "  Are  you  not  an  Englishwoman  ?  " — "  I 
don't  know  whether  I  may  not  be  called  an  English- 
woman, but  I  am  just  come  from  New  York  upon  the 
fame  of  this  lady,  whose  beauty  is  talked  of  far  and  near, 

173 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  I  think  I  came  for  a  very  good  purpose."  Many 
lively  entertaining  things  Miss  Allen  said  on  the  occasion. 
Lady  Coventry  walked  off,  but  the  young  man  would  not 
part  with  Miss  Allen,  and  said,  "Come,  pull  off  your 
mask ;  I  must  see  who  has  entertained  us  so  well,"  and 
made  her  sit  down.  "  Hands  off,"  said  she,  for  he  offered 
to  take  her  mask ;  "  you  know  that  "s  impertinent."11  Lady 
Carysfort  beckoned  to  her,  and  said,  "  Do  you  know  it  is 
Prince  Edward1  you  are  talking  to  ?  "  Miss  Allen,  in  great 
confusion,  thought  it  was  best  not  to  seem  to  know,  and 
by  degrees  disengaged  herself;  but  when  she  had  pulled 
off  her  mask  he  had  watched  her,  and  came  up  and  took 
her  by  the  hand,  and  asked  her  if  she  knew  the  supper- 
room.  She  said  she  did  not,  upon  which  he  led  her 
through  three  rooms,  everybody  making  way ;  and  when 
they  came  to  the  supper-room,  he  addressed  himself  to 
the  chief  of  the  company,  and  desired  "  that  young  lady 
might  be  particularly  taken  care  of,  and  that  he  was 
extremely  sorry  he  was  obliged  to  sup  in  another  party,"" 
and  retired,  without  making  discovery  of  himself  to  her. 
Was  not  that  pretty  and  polite  ? "" 

In  March  1755  Mrs.  Delany  was  at  last  established  in 
her  own  house  in  Spring  Gardens,  where  she  had  the 
pleasure  of  a  visit  from  her  sister.  The  return  to 
Ireland  was  again  postponed,  and  in  the  summer  the 
two  sisters  were  together  at  Bath.  In  November  Mrs. 
Delany  writes  from  Longleat :  '  Lord  Weymouth  2  met  us 
at  the  door,  and  said  immediately,  "Where  is  Mrs. 
Dewes?"  He  is  perfectly  polite  and  easy  in  his  own 
house,  very  conversable  and  cheerful ;  you  would  think  he 
had  been  master  of  the  house  for  years  instead  of  for 

1  Second  son  of  Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales. 

2  The  son  of  her  old  admirer. 

174 


MRS.  DELANY 

weeks.  Whoever  is  to  be  the  happy  mistress  of  Long- 
leat  will  have  a  very  fair  lot.  I  was  quite  overcome  on 
seeing  Lady  Weymouth's  picture  in  her  Spanish  dress  ;  I 
could  not  help  calling  to  mind  what  mirth,  what  happi- 
ness seemed  to  surround  her  the  last  time  I  was  in  this 
house.  She  was  good  and  innocent,  and  no  doubt  is  now 
in  a  happy  state.  I  hope  her  son  will  soon  recover  the 
splendour  of  his  house  in  every  respect.1 

In  December  the  letters  contain  many  details  of  the 
terrible  earthquake  at  Lisbon,  which  was  generally  looked 
upon  as  a  Divine  judgment.  'Is  it  possible,"1  writes  Mrs. 
Delany,  '  such  terrible  distresses  can  be  read  without  some 
awful  thoughts?  Can  those  wretches  at  White's  read 
them  like  common  paragraphs  of  news  ?  Surely  no,  at 
least  it  is  to  be  hoped  they  cannot ;  and  yet  I  fear  those 
who  stand  least  in  need  of  such  warnings  are  most 
touched  by  them.1  From  a  friend,  whose  business  partner 
was  among  the  survivors,  she  learns  that  '  the  dreadful 
shrieks  and  agony  of  the  people  were  most  heartrending ; 
thousands  were  crushed  to  death  in  the  churches,  and 
those  who  had  often  taken  refuge  there  as  murderers  were 
crushed  in  the  ruins.  .  .  .  The  earth  did  not  open,  but 
the  houses  were  thrown  down  by  the  trembling  of  the 
earth  ;  and  the  conflagration  which  lasted  till  the  whole 
city  was  destroyed  was  occasioned  by  violent  lightning, 
and  not  fires  in  the  houses,  as  they  have  all  stucco  floors.1 

The  month  of  December  was  spent  at  Bath,  where 
Mrs.  Delany  was  ordered  to  drink  the  waters.  Among 
the  visitors  was  the  great  Lord  Chesterfield,  who  had 
lately  had  an  attack  of  apoplexy,  owing,  it  was  supposed, 
to  the  anxious  life  he  had  led  among  gamesters.  '  What- 
ever effect  it  (gaming)  may  have  had  upon  his  constitu- 
tion,1 observes  Mrs.  Delany,  'it  is  a  severe  reproach  and 

175 


MRS.  DELANY 

blemish  to  his  character  as  a  man  possessed  of  superior 
talents  to  most  of  his  sex,  so  good  an  understanding,  such 
brilliancy  of  wit,  so  much  discernment  in  seeing  the 
foibles  of  others,  and  when  he  thought  his  example  of 
consequence  (as  when  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland),  so 
great  a  command  of  himself  for  nearly  a  whole  year. 
Is  it  not  strange  that  he  should  fall  a  sacrifice  to  that 
desperate  vice  gaming  ? ' 

In    January   1756  we  hear   a   great   deal    about    the 
splendours  of  the  Granvilles''  cousin,  Mr.  — ,  afterwards 

Lord  Spencer,  and   his  bride.      After   a   detailed 

account  of  the  glories  of  the  young  wife's  finery  and 
jewels,  Mi's.  Delany  continues :  '  All  these  things  I  have 
just  seen  at  Mrs.  Spencer's,  who  looked  at  them  with  the 
greatest  unconcern,  though  not  insensible  to  their  merit 
as  fine  of  their  kind,  and  pretty  things,  but  as  the  least 
part  of  her  happiness.  A  begging  letter  was  given  to  her 
at  the  same  time  which  brought  tears  into  her  eyes,  and 
made  her  appear  with  much  more  lustre  than  the 
diamonds.  Her  jointure,  I  hear,  is  four  thousand  a  year. 
I  don't  know  what  her  pin-money  is,  I  suppose  in  propor- 
tion to  everything  Mr.  Spencer  has  done,  which  has  shown 
his  nature  to  be  good  and  generous.  Lady  Cowper  says 
he  may  spend  thirty  thousand  a  year  without  hurting 
himself.  There  were  magnificent  things  at  Althorpe  and 
nobody  could  have  acquitted  himself  with  more  dignity, 
or  given  more  universal  content  than  Mr.  Spencer  did. 
When  his  birthday  came  he  told  Mrs.  Pointz  it  was  his 
firm  resolution  to  make  Miss  Pointz  his  wife  as  soon  as 
he  was  master  of  himself;  that  now  he  was,  he  entreated 
her  leave  to  be  married  next  day.  You  may  imagine  the 
request  was  granted  ;  and  it  was  so  managed  that  nobody 
in  the  house,  though  near  five  hundred  people,  knew  any- 
176 


MRS.  DELANY 

thing  of  the  matter  but  Lord  and  Lady  Cowper,  Mrs. 
Pointz,  and  her  eldest  son,  and  it  was  not  declared  till  the 
Saturday  after.  On  the  20th  of  December,  after  tea,  the 
parties  necessary  for  the  wedding  stole  by  degrees  from 
the  company  into  Lady  Cowper's  dressing-room,  where 
the  ceremony  was  performed,  and  they  returned  different 
ways  to  the  company  again,  who  had  begun  dancing,  and 
they  joined  with  them.  Afterwards  they  retired  to  their 
different  apartments.  Miss  Pointz  and  her  sister  lay  from 
their  first  going  to  Althorpe  in  the  best  apartment,  and 
Miss  Louisa  resigned  her  place  on  this  occasion.  The 
French  waiting-woman,  an  old  prude,  who  was  not  let  into 
the  secret  (and  was,  I  suppose,  sent  to  bed,  the  girls  saying 
they  would  attend  upon  themselves),  was  so  shocked  the 
next  morning  when  she  went  in  to  open  the  windows  on 
seeing  Mr.  Spencer  put  his  head  out  of  the  curtains,  and 
ask  what  o'clock  it  was,  that  she  ran  roaring  and  crying 
to  Mrs.  Pointz,  and  told  her,  "  You  see  what  you  have  got 
by  delaying  this  marriage;  my  young  lady  is  undone." 
Mrs.  Pointz  teased  her  a  little  while,  then  told  her  the 
truth,  and  the  marriage  was  not  known  till  the  Saturday 
following.  They  have  been  most  graciously  received  at 
Court,  so  there  is  as  much  happiness  in  that  family  as 
mortal  heart  can  contain.' 

Mrs.  Delany  also  relates  how  the  young  couple  came 
up  to  town  from  Althorpe  in  three  coaches  and  six, 
accompanied  by  two  hundred  horsemen.  The  villages 
through  which  they  passed  were  thrown  into  the  greatest 
alarm  by  this  cavalcade,  some  of  the  people  shutting 
themselves  in  their  houses,  and  others  coming  out  armed 
with  pitchforks,  spits,  and  spades,  crying  that  'the  in- 
vasion was  come,'  believing  that  the  Pretender  and  the 
King  of  France  were  both  come  together. 

M  177 


MRS.  DELANY 

That  Mrs.  Delany  still  took  a  keen  interest  in  the 
fashions  is  evident  from  the  earnestness  with  which  she 
explains  that  *  ruffles  are  much  the  same — long  at  the 
elbow,  and  pretty  narrow  at  the  top.  I  think  they  pin 
their  gowns  rather  closer  than  before ;  hoops  are  as  flat 
as  if  made  of  pasteboard,  and  as  stiff,  the  shape  sloping 
from  the  hips  and  spreading  at  the  bottom,  enormous, 
but  not  so  ugly  as  the  square  hoops.  There  are  hopes 
that  they  will  soon  be  reduced  to  a  very  small  size. 
Heads  are  variously  adorned,  pompons  with  some  accom- 
paniment of  feathers,  ribbons,  or  flowers;  lappets  in  all 
sorts  of  curli-murlis ;  long  hoods  are  worn  close  under  the 
chin,  the  earrings  go  round  the  neck  [!],  and  tie  with 
bows  and  ends  behind.  Night-gowns  are  worn  without 
hoops.' 


178 


CHAPTER   XII 

(1756-1766) 

THE  whole  of  1756  was  spent  in  England.  In 
September  the  Delanys  went  to  Welbeck  for  the  first 
time,  and  Mrs.  Delany  describes  the  place  as  "really 
!  magnificent,  though  the  outward  appearance  of  the  house 
is  by  no  means  answerable  to  its  goodness  within.  There 
is  a  lawn  before  the  house,  encompassed  with  woods  of 
the  finest  oak  I  ever  saw.  A  valley  of  many  acres  runs 
through  that  part  of  the  park  that  is  visible  from  the 
house ;  it  is  to  be  floated,  and  will  make  a  noble  piece  of 
water.  I  have  undertaken  to  set  the  Duchess  of  Port- 
land's miniatures  in  order,  as  she  does  not  like  to  trust 
them  to  anybody  else.  Such  Petitots !  such  Olivers ! 
such  Coopers !  You  may  believe  the  employment  is  not 
unpleasant.1 

The  early  part  of  the  winter  was  passed  at  Bath  and 
Bristol,  and  the  sisters  were  together  in  town  between 
January  and  May.  In  March  1757  the  following  quaint 
advertisement  appeared,  announcing  the  publication  of 
The  Humanist,  a  paper  on  the  same  lines  as  the  Spectator, 
which  Dr.  Delany  proposed  to  edit : — 

'  This  is  to  give  notice 

To  all  those  few  frugal  and  temperate  ladies  and  gentle- 
men who  can  afford  to  sequester  ten  minutes  in  a  week 
from  pleasurable  pursuits  and  important  amusements, 

179 


MRS.  DELANY 

*  That  on  Saturday  the  26th  (and  on  every  succeeding 
Saturday)  will  be  published  a  new  paper  called 

THE  HUMANIST, 

Which  means  not  only  amusement,  like  the  rest  of  its 
contemporaries,  but  likewise  something  more  than  mere 
amusement ;  and  is  calculated  to  convey  some  little  useful 
and  entertaining  knowledge  of  various  kinds,  historical, 
classical,  natural,  moral,  and  now  and  then  a  little 
religious,  into  the  reader's  mind.  The  author  is  much 
concerned  that  this  cannot  be  done  under  the  great 
expense  of  twopence  a  week,  for  reasons  that  shall  be 
known  hereafter.  Whether  the  advantages  of  such  a 
paper  will  countervail  the  expense,  the  readers  will  judge 
for  themselves.1 

Apparently  the  judgment  of  the  reader  was  unfavour- 
able to  the  paper,  which,  perhaps,  was  overweighted  by 
its  religious  matter,  for  it  only  survived  fifteen  numbers. 
Among  its  contents  were  a  series  of  edifying  female  char- 
acter-studies, which  were  intended  to  serve  as  a  good 
example  to  women  readers.  A  sketch  of  a  faultless 
being  called  '  Maria '  was  a  portrait  of  Mrs.  Delany,  but 
when  she  discovered  it  she  forbade  its  publication.  It 
was  not  destroyed,  however,  and  serves  to  show  the 
light  in  which  her  husband  regarded  her. 

'Maria,"*  we  are  told,  in  the  quaint  language  of  the 
period,  *  was  early  initiated  into  every  art,  with  elegance 
and  condition,  that  could  form  her  into  a  fine  lady,  a 
good  woman,  and  a  good  Christian.  She  read  and  wrote 
two  languages  correctly  and  judiciously.  She  soon  be- 
came a  mistress  of  her  pen  in  every  art  to  which  a  pen 
could  be  applied.  She  wrote  a  fine  hand  in  the  most 
masterly  manner,  she  drew,  and  she  designed  with  amaz- 
180 


MRS.  DELANY 

ing  correctness  and  skill.  .  .  .  With  a  person  firlely 
proportioned,  she  had  a  lovely  face  of  great  sweetness 
set  off  with  a  head  of  fair  hair,  shining,  and  naturally 
curled,  with  a  complexion  which  nothing  could  equal,  in 
which  the  lilies  and  roses  contended  for  the  mastery.  Her 
eyes  were  bright — indeed,  I  could  never  tell  the  colour 
they  were  of,  but  to  the  best  of  my  belief  they  were  what 
Solomon  calls  "dove's  eyes,"  and  she  is  almost  the  only 
woman  I  ever  saw  whose  lips  were  scarlet  and  her  bloom 
beyond  expression.1 

In  March  1758  the  hearing  of  the  appeal  in  Dr. 
Delany's  long-protracted  lawsuit  took  place  in  the  House 
of  Lords.  The  Attorney-General  had  been  retained  by 
the  Dean,  and  opened  the  case  in  a  speech  of  two  hours' 
length.  The  hearing  lasted  over  several  days,  during 
which  the  worthy  couple  suffered  torments  of  anxiety  and 
suspense ;  but  on  March  6  Mrs.  Delany  was  able  to  write  : 
'  My  dearest  sister's  most  kind  and  prophetic  letter  came 
just  as  we  had  received  the  happy  news  of  the  complete 
success  of  our  cause.  .  .  .  The  Dean's  character  is  cleared, 
and  set  in  the  fair  light  it  deserves.  I  am  just  come 
from  early  chapel,  where  I  have  every  morning  implored 
the  blessing  now  received,  but  with  a  heavy  heart,  fearing 
my  own  demerits,  and  not  daring  to  hope  for  success ;  but 
this  morning  I  have  attended  with  very  different  sensations, 
and  may  I  ever  be  most  humbly  thankful.  A  cause  never 
was  so  well  attended,  nor  a  more  universal  joy  seen  than 
when  Lord  Mansfield,1  after  an  hour  and  a  half's  speaking 
with  angelic  oratory,  pronounced  the  decree  in  our  favour.' 

The  suit  had  lasted  nearly  ten  years  in  all,  and  had 
cost  the  Delanys  more  than  the  disputed  sum  in  law 
expenses,  to  say  nothing  of  the  wear  and  tear  of  suspense 
1  The  'silver-tongued  Murray.' 

181 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  anxiety.  A  compromise  might  have  been  arrived  at 
long  before  had  it  not  been  for  Mrs.  Delany's  desire  that 
her  husband's  character  should  be  fully  cleared,  no  matter 
what  the  cost. 

After  their  long  absence  the  Delanys  returned  to 
Ireland  in  July  1758,  and  Mrs.  Delany's  first  letter  from 
Delville  is  full  of  the  delights  of  her  garden,  which,  she 
says,  she  has  not  yet  been  able  to  visit  in  every  part, 
although  '  a  snail  can  creep  round  it  in  a  minute,1  allud- 
ing to  the  satirical  description  of  Delville  attributed  at 
first  to  Swift,  but  afterwards  believed  to  have  been 
written  by  Sheridan — 

'  Would  you  that  Delville  I  describe  ? 
Believe  me,  sir,  I  will  not  gibe ; 
For  who  would  be  satirical 
Upon  a  thing  so  very  small ; 
You  scarce  upon  the  borders  enter 
Before  you  're  at  the  very  centre. 
A  single  crow  can  make  it  night, 
When  o'er  your  farm  she  takes  her  flight. 
Yet  in  this  narrow  compass  we 
Observe  a  vast  variety  ; 
Both  walks,  walls,  meadows,  and  parterres, 
Windows,  and  doors,  and  rooms,  and  stairs, 
And  hills,  and  dales,  and  woods,  and  fields, 
And  hay,  and  grass,  and  corn  it  yields. 
All  to  your  haggard  brought  so  cheap  in, 
Without  the  mowing  or  the  reaping ; 
A  razor,  tho'  to  say 't  I  'm  loth, 
Would  shave  you  and  your  meadows  both. 
Tho'  small 's  the  farm,  yet  here 's  a  house 
Full  large  to  entertain  a  mouse  ; 
But  where  a  rat  is  dreaded  more 
Than  savage  Caledonian  boar  ; 
For  if  it 's  entered  by  a  rat, 
There  is  not  room  to  swing  a  cat. 
182 


MRS.  DELANY 

A  little  rivulet  seems  to  steal 

Down  through  a  thing  you  call  a  vale, 

Like  tears  adown  a  wrinkled  cheek, 

Like  rain  along  a  blade  of  leek  ; 

And  this  you  call  your  sweet  meander, 

Which  might  be  sucked  up  by  a  gander, 

Could  he  but  force  his  nether  bill 

To  scoop  the  channel  of  the  rill. 

For  sure  you  'd  make  a  mighty  clutter 

Were  it  as  big  as  city  gutter. 

Next  come  I  to  your  kitchen  garden, 

Where  our  poor  mouse  would  fare  but  hard  in ; 

And  round  this  garden  is  a  walk, 

No  longer  than  a  tailor's  chalk  ; 

Must  I  compare  what  space  is  in  it, 

A  snail  creeps  round  it  in  a  minute. 

One  lettuce  makes  a  shift  to  squeeze 

Up  thro*  a  tuft  you  call  the  trees ; 

And  once  a  year  a  single  rose 

Peeps  from  the  bud,  but  never  blows, 

In  vain,  then,  you  expect  its  bloom, 

It  cannot  blow  from  want  of  room  ! 

In  short,  in  all  your  boasted  seat, 

There 's  nothing  but  yourself  that 's  great. ' 

There  is  not  much  of  importance  to  record  during  the 
next  year  or  two,  but  a  few  characteristic  extracts  from 
the  letters  may  be  given.  'I  am  quite  of  your  mind 
about  marrying,1  writes  Mrs.  Delany  in  March  1759. 
'  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  have  Mary  married  before  she 
was  twenty ;  and  yet  if  a  very  desirable  match  offers 
sooner,  I  don^t  see  how  it  can  be  refused,  if  she  must 
marry  at  all?  A  propos,  we  dined  last  night  at  Mrs. 
Clayton's;  she  was  very  lively.  After  dinner  the  dis- 
course ran  upon  women  being  single;  she  said  it  was  a 
foolish  scheme,  for  after  forty  it  was  awkward  because 
they  were  insignificant,  and  she  spoke  with  great  con- 

183 


MRS.  DELANY 

tempt  of  them.  I  was  angry  at  the  indignity,  and  said, 
but  with  great  calmness, "  I  wonder  you  should  say  so ;  for 
who  makes  a  better  figure  than  your  sister  Donnellan, 
whose  drawing-room  is  constantly  filled  with  the  best 
company,  and  whose  conversation  is  much  sought  after  ?  " 
It  would  have  diverted  you  to  see  how  blank  she  looked. 
"  Oh,  but,"  she  added,  "  they  grow  jealous  and  suspicious." 
"  Not  at  all,"  said  I,  "  unless  they  were  inclined  to  it  when 
young." ' 

Mrs.  Delany's  mind  was  evidently  rather  exercised  on 

the  '  woman  question '  just  then,  for  in  the  next  letter  she 

writes  of  her  godson,  Lord   Mornington's  fiancee.  Miss 

'  Hill :  '  She  is  pretty,  excessively  good-natured,  and  happy 

^-in  her  present  situation ;    but  I  own  I  think  my  godson 

required  a  wife  that  knew  more  of  the  punctilios  of  good 

'breeding,  as  he  is  much  wanting  in  them  himself,  and 

those  things  should  not  be  wanting   in  a  man  of  rank 

and  fortune.     Indeed,  I  carry  it  further,  and  think  that 

nobody  can  do  so  much  good  in  the  world  who  is  not 

well  bred  as  those  that  are ;  in  truth,  it  is  only  a  modern 

phrase  for  that  "  charity  "  emphatically  expressed  by  St. 

Paul.     Yet  refining  is  of  little  use  where  the  wife  is  only 

considered  as  a  head-servant  in  the  family,  and  honoured 

with  the  head  of  the  table  that  she  may  have  all  the 

trouble  of  carving,  as  well  as  the  care  of  supplying  that 

table,  so  that  her  lord  may  not  descend  to  any  domestic 

drudgery.     Our   Maker  created   us   "helpmeets,"  which 

surely  implies  we  are  worthy  of  being  their  companions, 

their  friends,  their  advisers,  as  well  as  they  ours.1 

A  r  In  April  1759  Handel,  whom  Mrs.  Delany  had  never 

ceased  to  regard  as  her  friend  and  most  revered  master, 

died  at  the  age  of  seventy-five.     '  I  could  not  help  feeling 

a  damp  on  my  spirits,'  she  writes,  'when  I  heard  that 

184 


MRS.  DELANY 

great  master  of  music  was  no  more,  and  I  shall  be  less  able 
to  hear  any  music  than  I  used  to  be.  I  hear  he  has  showed 
his  gratitude  and  regard  to  my  brother  by  leaving  him 
some  of  his  pictures.  ...  I  am  sure  you  were  pleased  by 
the  honours  done  him  by  the  chapter  at  Westminster.1 

There  was  always  a  solid  book  of  some  kind  for  the 
evening  readings  at  Delville.  At  one  time  it  is  Robert- 
son's History  of'  Scotland,  and  at  another  Mrs.  Carter's 
Epictetus,  and  a  translation  of  the  Tragedies  of  Sophocles. 
Of  the  latter  Mrs.  Delany  observes  naively  :  '  They  are  in 
good,  unaffected  language.  There  is  something  of  a  noble 
simplicity  in  them,  not  so  ranting,  but  more  natural  than 
our  modern  tragedies,  and  it  is  very  agreeable  to  see  how 
poets  wrote  above  a  thousand  years  ago ;  though  there  is 
vanity  wanting  to  make  them  agreeable  to  our  stage, 
where  we  have  been  used  to  more  complicated  plots  and 
surprises,  but  I  believe  these  are  in  truer  taste.1 

In  April  1760  she  writes  of  a  certain  book  that  was 
making  a  great  noise  in  the  world  j  ust  then  :  '  The  Dean 
is  indeed  very  angry  with  the  author  of  Tristram  Shandy, 
and  those  who  do  not  condemn  the  work  as  it  deserves ;  it 
has  not  and  will  not  enter  this  house,  especially  now  your 
account  is  added  to  a  very  bad  one  we  had  heard  before."1 
Again,  in  a  subsequent  letter  she  alludes  to  the  obnoxious 
book :  'D.D.  is  not  a  little  offended  with  Mr.  Sterne ;  his  b6ok 
is  read  here  as  in  London,  and  diverts  more  than  it  offends. 
As  neither  I  nor  any  of  my  particular  set  have  read  it,  I 
know  no  more  of  it  than  what  you  have  said  about  it."1 

In  September  1760  the  Delanys  went  to  England  again, 

and  in  October,  the  month  in  which  George  n.  died,  settled 

down  in  Bath  for  the  winter.    From  thence  a  short  visit  was 

paid  to  Lord  and  Lady  Wey mouth 1  at  Longleat,  where,  to 

1  Lord  Weymouth  married  Lady  Elizabeth  Cavendish-Bentinck  in  1759. 

185 


MRS.  DELANY 

quote  Mrs.  Delany,  '  the  gardens  are  no  more  \  '  They  are 
succeeded  by  a  fine  lawn,  a  serpentine  river,  wooded  hills, 
gravel  paths  meandering  round  a  shrubbery,  all  modern- 
ised by  the  ingenious  and  much-sought-after  Mr.  Brown. 
It  was  at  Bath  that  Mrs.  Delany  had  her  first  sight  of 
Mr.  Gainsborough's  pictures.  '  This  morning,"1  she  writes 
in  October,  '  I  went  with  Lady  Westmoreland  to  see  Mr. 
Gainsborough's  pictures,  and  they  may  well  be  called  what 
Mr.  Webb  unjustly  says  of  Rubens — they  are  "  splendid 
impositions?  There  I  saw  Miss  Ford's  picture — a  whole- 
length,  with  her  guitar,  a  most  extraordinary  picture, 
handsome  and  bold;  but  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  see 
any  one  I  loved  painted  in  such  a  manner.' 

It  was  about  this  time,  the  close  of  the  year  1760,  that 
Mi's.  Delany  began  to  suffer  anxiety  on  account  of  the 
health  of  her  sister,  who  had  become  subject  to  alarming 
fits  of  giddiness.  In  January  1761  the  Delanys  joined  Mrs. 
Dewes  at  Bristol,  where  she  had  been  ordered  to  take  the 
waters,  and  remained  with  her  until  her  rapidly-increasing 
weakness  ended  in  her  death  on  July  6,  1761.  No  letters 
of  Mrs.  Delany's  relating  to  this  period  of  overwhelming 
grief  and  desolation  have  been  found ;  but  among  the 
family  papers  is  a  little  note  from  Mr.  Dewes  to  his  young 
daughter  Mary,  which  is  curious  as  a  specimen  of  the  formal 
and  purposely  unemotional  composition  of  an  eighteenth 
century  parent  in  time  of  affliction.  There  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  Mr.  Dewes's  affection  for  his  wife,  or  his  grief  at  her 
loss,  but  the  power,  and  perhaps  the  will,  to  express  deep, 
unaffected  feeling  was  not  over  common  at  this  period : 

'  MY  DEAR  MARY,'  begins  this  letter  of  condolence,  *  I 
am  but  poorly  qualified  at  present  to  console  you  upon  the 
great  loss  you  have  sustained  in  the  death  of  the  best  of 
186 


MRS.  DELANY 

mothers ;  and  though,  upon  the  whole,  I  think  my  loss  the 
greatest,  and  am  but  too  sensibly  affected  with  it,  yet,  as  a 
parent,  something  may  be  expected  from  me  upon  so  great  a 
catastrophe.  Let  me  therefore  advise  you  not  to  dwell  too 
much  upon  the  melancholy  subject,  but  rather  be  thankful 
that  a  life  so  worthy  of  imitation  has  been  so  long  con- 
tinued to  you,  and  endeavour  to  follow  her  bright  example. 
This  will  be  a  comfort  to  yourself  and  friends  here,  and  a 
means  of  promoting  your  eternal  happiness  hereafter.  .  .  ."* 

With  the  death  of  Anne  Dewes,  the  intimate  sisterly 
correspondence  comes  perforce  to  an  end ;  but  as  soon  as  the 
first  violence  of  her  grief  is  over,  Mrs.  Delany  begins  to 
write  regularly  to  her  niece  Mary,  and  to  relations  or  old 
friends,  such  as  the  Duchess  of  Portland,  Lady  Cowper, 
Lady  Gower,  and  Mrs.  Boscawen,  the  latter  being  one  of 
:the  shining  lights  of  the  blue-stocking  circle.  After  a 
visit  to  Mr.  Granville  at  Calwich,  the  Delanys  returned 
to  Delville  in  the  winter  of  1761-62,  and  here  Mrs.  Delany 
had  the  companionship  of  her  goddaughter  Sally  Chapone, 
who  was  married  in  1764-  to  the  Dean's  chaplain,  Mr. 
Sandford.  Mary  Dewes  was  just  entering  society  under 
the  wing  of  Lady  Cowper,  and  Mrs.  Delany's  letters 
contain  much  excellent  advice  to  the  niece,  whom  now 
more  than  ever  she  regarded  as  her  own  child.  In  1762 
she  writes  to  Mary  : — 

'Our  governor  leaves  us  on  Monday.  Mrs.  Osborne 
rejoices,  the  young  ladies  mourn,  for  they  are  so  "very 
young  as  to  think  a  round  of  hurrying  pleasures  is  happi- 
ness ;  not  considering  what  a  loss  of  time  it  is  to  devote 
all  their  hours  to  amusements  that  can  leave  no  solid 
pleasure  behind,  wear  their  constitutions  out  by  bad  hours, 
and  prevent  all  occupations  that  enlarge  the  mind  and  lay 
in  a  store  of  good  and  entertaining  reflections  for  the 

187 


MRS.  DELANY 

autumn  and  winter  of  life.  A  moderate  participation  in 
rational  entertainments  is  necessary,  I  may  say,  to  relieve 
the  mind,  but  they  should  be  no  more  the  principal  atten- 
tion of  our  minds  than  sweetmeats  should  be  our  sole  food. 
I  don't  mean  any  reflection  on  the  Lady  Montagues,  for 
their  station  here  has  required  them  to  lead  the  life  they 
have  done,  and  they  have  acquitted  themselves  with  a 
great  deal  of  civility  and  good-humour ;  but  I  only  con- 
demn the  choice  of  spending  every  day  in  a  public  place, 
though  I  don't  fear  this  disposition  in  you,  my  dear  child, 
because  you  have  early  had  great  advantages,  and  the 
good  seed  that  has  been  sown  will  spring  up,  and  you  will 
reap  the  advantage  of  it.  Has  my  brother  read  Fingal, 
the  Erse  poetry  ?  and  how  do  you  both  like  it  ?  It  is 
melancholy,  but  I  think  very  pretty.  We  have  lately 
read  again  Pliny's  Letters^  translated  by  Melmouth ;  they 
are  very  pleasing  letters.1 

Mrs.  Delany  writes  her  niece  a  long  and  cheerful 
account  of  the  Chapone-Sandford  wedding,  the  festivities 
at  which  lasted  from  eleven  in  the  morning  till  ten  at 
night,  and  included  breakfast  after  the  ceremony ;  dinner, 
with  a  Gargantuan  menu,  at  four ;  tea  and  coffee  at  seven, 
then  dancing  and  cribbage,  prayers,  a  salver  with  bride- 
cake in  the  parlour,  and  a  quiet  supper  after  the  company 
had  departed.  Such  a  day  would  be  the  death  of  almost 
any  modern  hostess,  but  Mrs.  Delany  writes  as  though 
the  duties  of  housekeeping  and  hospitality  were  a  pleasure 
rather  than  a  burden. 

Except   for   a   short   visit    to    England   in    1763,  the 
,  Delanys  remained  quietly  at  Delville  till  1767,  when  a 
threatened    renewal    of    the    lawsuit    filled    them    with 
anxiety,  and  decided  them,  in  spite  of  the  Dean's  fast- 
failing  health,  to  risk  the  journey  to  England,  and  estab- 
188 


MRS.  DELANY 

.  lish  themselves  at  Bath.     During  the  year  previous  to 

if  their    final    departure   from    Ireland,   there    are    several 

allusions  in  the  letters  to  J.  J.  Rousseau,  who  was  then 

#  living  at   Woolton,   where    he    had    Mr.    Granville    of 

<-.  Calwich  as  one  of  his  nearest  neighbours.     '  I  hope  your 

/^neighbour  Rousseau  entertains  you,'  writes  Mrs.  Delany 

,    to  her  brother  in  July  1766.     '  Is  he  pleased  with  his  own 

x£  Hermitage  ?    It  is  romantic  enough  to  satisfy  a  genius,  but 

/*  not  so  well  suited  to  a  sentimental  philosopher  as  to  a 

*?•  cynic.    It  is  rather  too  rude,  and  I  should  imagine  Calwich 

much  better  fitted  for  that  purpose.'     Again,  writing  in 

^  September  to  her  old  friend  Lady  Andover,  she  observes  : 

r      '  I  am  glad  you  have  seen  the  Rousseau ;  he  is  a  genius 

and  a  curiosity,  and  his  works  extremely  ingenious,  as  I 

am  told,  but  to  young  and  unstable  minds    I    believe 

.    dangerous,  as  under   the  guise  and    pomp  of  virtue  he 

does  advance  very  erroneous  and  unorthodox  sentiments. 

It  is  not  the  bon  tons  who  say  this,  but  I  am  too  near  the 

day  of  trial  to  disturb  my  mind  with  fashionable  whims, 

Lady  Kildare  said  she  would  offer  Rousseau  an  elegant 

retreat  if  he  would  educate  her  children  !     I  own  I  differ 

widely  from  her  ladyship,  and  would  rather  commit  that 

charge    to   a   downright    honest    parson,    I    mean   as   to 

religious  principles,  but  perhaps  that  was  a  part   that 

did  not  fall  into  her  scheme  at  all.' 

Mrs.  Delany  thought  it  necessary  to  warn  her  young 
niece,  who  frequently  stayed  at  Calwich,  against  the  wiles 
of  the  philosopher.  'Now  for  a  word  of  advice  about 
Monsieur  Rousseau,'  she  writes,  '  who  has  gained  so  much 
of  your  admiration.  His  writings  are  ingenious,  no  doubt, 
and  were  they  weeded  from  the  false  and  erroneous  senti- 
ments that  are  blended  throughout  his  works  (as  I  have 
been  told)  they  would  be  as  valuable  as  they  are  enter- 

189 


MRS.  DELANY 

taining.  I  own  I  am  not  a  fair  disputant  on  this  subject 
from  my  own  knowledge  of  his  works,  as  I  avoid  engaging 
in  books  from  whose  subtlety  I  might  perhaps  receive 
some  prejudice,  and  I  always  take  an  alarm  when  virtue 
in  general  terms  is  the  idol,  without  the  support  of  religion, 
the  only  foundation  that  can  be  our  security  to  build 
upon  ;  that  great  plausibility  and  pomp  of  expression 
is  deluding,  and  requires  great  accuracy  of  judgment  not 
to  be  imposed  upon  by  it.  I  therefore  think  it  the  wisest 
and  safest  way  to  avoid  those  snares  that  I  may  not  have 
strength  enough  to  break  when  once  entangled  in  them. 
I  remember  a  wise  maxim  of  my  Aunt  Stanley's  when  I 
first  came  into  the  great  world  :  "  Avoid  putting  yourself 
in  danger,  fly  from  temptations,  for  it  is  always  odds  on 
the  tempter's  side."  ' 

The  warning  does  not  seem  to  have  had  the  effect  of 
lessening  Mary's  admiration  for  the  philosopher,  or  the 
pleasure  she  took  in  his  company.  After  his  return  to 
France,  Rousseau  inquires,  in  a  letter  to  the  Duchess  of 
Portland,  for  his  good  friend  Mr.  Granville,  and  also  for 
that  gentleman's  amiable  niece  Miss  Dewes.  Alluding  to 
a  little  flock  of  sheep  that  her  uncle  had  given  to  Mary, 
he  continues:  'Elle  avait  des  brebis  si  jeune  qu'elle  doit 
avoir  trouve  bientot  un  berger  qui  fit  son  bonheur. 
(Test  une  recompense  qui  meritait  la  charite  chretienne 
avec  laquelle  elle  supportait  les  radotages  de  son  vieux 
berger,  dont  le  titre  n'etait  pas  moins  inutile  pour  elle 
que  c'est  pour  vous  ,  celui  que  vous  m'avez  permis  de 
porter.'  In  the  last  sentence  Rousseau  alludes  to  the  title 
of  '  L'Herboriste  de  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Portland,' 
which  he  had  bestowed  upon  himself. 


190 


CHAPTER    XIII 

(1767-1772) 

IN  1767  the  Delanys  returned  to  England  after  an  absence 
of  four  years.  The  Dean  was  now  over  eighty,  and  had 
become  very  infirm,  so  that  the  long  journey  was  a  serious 
undertaking,  but  he  was  anxious  not  only  to  be  at  hand 
should  his  affairs  necessitate  another  appeal  to  the  House 
of  Lords,  but  also  to  feel  that  when  the  end  came  he 
should  leave  his  wife  in  her  own  country  and  among  her 
own  friends.  The  pair  went  first  to  Calwich  and  then 
to  Bath,  where  it  was  hoped  that  the  Dean  might  again 
be  benefited  by  the  waters,  and  there  he  lingered  for 
several  months.  During  this  time  Mrs.  Delany  went  to 
London,  and  sold  the  house  in  Spring  Gardens  that  had 
been  bought  for  her  thirteen  years  before.  It  seems 
probable  that  the  renewal  of  heavy  law  expenses  had  a 
great  deal  to  do  with  this  determination,  and  that,  being 
hopeless  of  her  husband"^  recovery,  she  considered  that  her 
wisest  course  would  be  to  relieve  him  from  anxiety  as  to 
any  further  claims  after  his  decease,  by  having  a  large 
sum  of  ready  money  in  the  banker's  hands,  more  than 
sufficient  for  any  possible  legal  demands.  She  also  felt  that 
she  would  never  have  spirit  or  energy  to  settle  in  London 
alone,  and  that  after  her  husband's  death  she  would  remain 
at  Bath  for  the  remainder  of  her  life. 

Dr.  Delany  died  on  May  6,  1768,  in  the  eighty-fourth 

191 


MRS.  DELANY 

year  of  his  age,  and  was  buried  at  Delville  in  a  piece  of 
ground  which  had  once  been  part  of  his  garden,  but  which 
was  thrown  into  the  churchyard  for  this  purpose.  On 
his  memorial  tablet  is  engraved  the  following  inscrip- 
tion, said  to  have  been  composed  by  himself:  'Here  lieth 
the  body  of  an  orthodox  Christian  believer,  an  early  and 
earnest  defender  of  Revelation  to  the  utmost  of  the 
abilities  with  which  it  pleased  God  to  endow  a  constant 
and  zealous  preacher  of  the  Divine  laws,  and  an  humble, 
unmeriting  penitent.'  Mary  Dewes  was  with  her  aunt 
at  the  time  of  the  Dean's  death,  and  almost  immediately 
afterwards  the  Duchess  of  Portland  came  to  Bath  and 
carried  off  her  old  friend  for  a  long  quiet  visit  to  Bulstrode, 
and  eventually  persuaded  her  to  settle  in  London,  where 
she  would  be  among  her  own  friends. 

Mrs.  Delany,  who  was  now  sixty -eight  years  of  age,  and 
who  had  suffered  many  sorrows  and  anxieties  during  the 
last  seven  years,  instead  of  yielding  to  the  natural  depres- 
sion that  assailed  her,  made  a  courageous  and  successful 
effort  to  keep  up  her  spirits  and  her  interest  in  life,  in 
order  that  she  might  be  of  use  and  comfort  to  those  who 
were  still  left  to  her.  She  writes  long  letters  to  Mary  Dewes, 
telling  her  all  the  news  that  she  thinks  likely  to  interest 
her  young  correspondent,  and  shows  a  ready  sympathy 
with  her  niece's  occupations  and  pursuits.  The  summer 
was  now  regularly  spent  at  Bulstrode,  and  the  winter  in 
a  house  that  Mrs.  Delany  had  taken  in  St.  James's  Street, 
where  her  now  inseparable  friend,  the  Duchess,  spent 
nearly  every  evening  with  her. 

In  the  letters  for  1768  we  hear  of  the  death  of  Lady 

Hervey,  once  the  toasted  beauty,  Molly  Lepel,  and  of  a 

Court  ball  given  in  honour  of  the  King  of  Denmark,  at 

which  George  in.,  with  Lady  Mary  Lowther  for  a  partner, 

192 


<f  /  /  '  /    /   ^S?   / 

',,  ;.r,,  ,,  /  ';//;,  //,//,,/  .//ft  )/, 


MRS.  DELANY 

danced  the  'Hemp-dresser,'  a  fashionable  country  dance 
which  lasted  two  hours. 

The  King  of  Denmark's  visit  made  a  great  sensation  in 
town,  and  his  departure  was  much  lamented  by  the  mob. 
1  He  threw  out  of  window  the  day  before  he  left  an  hundred 
and  fifty  guineas  among  them,  and  he  gave  a  thousand 
pounds  among  the  King's  servants.  His  travelling,  they 
say,  is  to  conquer  a  fancy  he  has  for  a  young  lady  in 
Denmark,  and  that  he  dislikes  his  wife  extremely.'  In 
September  1768,  Mrs.  Delany  writes  to  her  niece  from 
Bulstrode :  '  We  returned  here  on  Saturday.  At  Uxbridge 
we  were  obliged  to  get  out  of  our  chaise,  the  waters  were 
so  high,  and  the  bridge  that  is  now  building  not  yet 
finished.  I  suppose  the  newspapers  have  informed  you 
of  the  extraordinary  inundations  occasioned  by  only  one 
night's  rain.  The  Virginia  water  broke  head,  and  is 
entirely  gone,  fish  and  all,  and  a  house  in  the  way  carried 
off  as  clear  as  if  no  house  had  ever  been  built  there  !  It 
was  surprising  to  see  the  water  on  parade  at  St.  James's 
like  a  great  lake,  and  all  the  way  between  London  and 
this,  the  people  labouring  to  throw  up  the  water  in 
pailsfull  that  overflowed  the  lower  part  of  the  houses 
and  cellars.'  A  month  later  she  writes  from  Whitehall : 
'  We  had  a  fine  day  for  our  journey  here,  and  it  was  lucky, 
for  the  chief  postillion  and  his  horse  tumbled  down,  and 
we  were  obliged  to  get  out  of  the  chaise  in  the  middle  of 
the  road.  At  first  the  shock  was  great,  as  we  had  reason 
to  think  the  man  was  very  much  hurt,  if  not  killed ;  but 
providentially  he  was  neither,  only  his  leg  a  little  bruised. 
.  .  .  No  words  can  express  the  Duchess's  goodness  to  me, 
pressing  me  to  remain  with  her  as.  long  as  convenient,  but 
I  am  myself  unequal  to  the  way  of  life  unavoidable  here 

jf  late  hours  and  company,  which  makes  me  think  it 
N  193 


MRS.  DELANY 

prudent  to  seek  after  a  house  in  good  earnest.  I  was  told 
of  one  yesterday,  and  went  to  see  it ;  the  place  is  called 
Catherine  Wheel  Lane ;  it  is  very  small,  but  both  prettily 
and  conveniently  situated.  The  front  faces  a  cross  street 
'now  called  Little  St.  James's  Street,  and  the  back  looks 
into  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater's  garden  very  pleasantly. 
A  coach  drives  very  well  to  the  door,  and  people  of  fashion 
live  in  the  row.1 

The  house  was  taken,  but  in  January  1769  Mrs.  Delany 
was  still  at  Whitehall.  She  writes  to  Lady  Andover : 
'  It  is  an  age  since  I  wrote  to  dear  Lady  Andover,  and  I 
suffer  (as  all  naughty  people  do)  for  my  faults.  The  truth, 
which  I  know  is  always  the  best  solicitor  with  your  lady- 
ship, is  that  on  coming  to  town  I  was  struck  with  my 
Irish  goods  that  had  arrived,  and  so  sunk  by  it  that  I  was 
not  able  to  write ;  and  now  being  uncertain  where  this 
may  kiss  your  hands,  and  not  without  hope  that  you 
may  be  preparing  for  London,  I  make  it  short.  Surely 
London  is  the  place  that  December  to  April  is  the 
wholesomest  for  man,  woman,  and  child !  .  .  .  My  hut  in 
St.  James's  Street  is  not  very  forward,  but  does  not  at  all 
grieve  my  spirit.  I  am  too  sensible  of  my  present  happy 
situation  to  be  in  haste  to  quit  it.' 

Lady  Gower  and  Mrs.  Boscawen  are  still  among  Mrs. 
Delany's  most  regular  correspondents.  The  first-named 
lady  was  a  character  in  her  way,  strong  in  mind  and  body, 
a  grande  dame  of  the  old  school.  One  summer,  when  she 
was  between  seventy  and  eighty  years  of  age,  she  gave  up 
riding  on  horseback,  '  on  account  of  the  flies,'  the  avowed 
reason  causing  a  good  deal  of  amusement  to  her  friends- 
An  extract  from  one  of  her  letters  may  be  given  as  a 
specimen  of  her  style.  It  is  dated  from  her  country  house, 
Bill  Hill,  Berkshire,  August  1769  :— 
194 


MRS.  DELANY 

4  Fortune  has  bless'd  y8  fforest  wth  ye  genius's  of  ye  age. 
Mrs.  Montagu,  Mrs.  Carter,  Mrs.  Dunbar,  and  Ld  Littleton 
are  at  Sufiing  Wells,  and  sport  sentim43  from  morn  till 
noon,  from  noon  till  dewy  eve.  I  molest  'em  not,  content- 
ing myself  in  my  rustick  simplicity ;  'tis  a  stupidity  y* 
may  be  felt,  I  don't  doubt,  but  not  by  me.  Mrs.  Montagu 
has  comenced  author  in  vindication  of  Shakespeare,  who 
wants  none,  therefore  her  work  must  be  deemed  a  work  of 
supererogation ;  some  comend  it.  I  '11  have  y*,  because  I 
can  throw  it  aside  wn  I  'm  tired.' 

In  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Boscawen  there  is  an  account  of 
the  foundation  of  the  fashionable  club,  afterwards  known 
as  Almack's.  '  The  female  club  I  told  you  of  is  removed 
from  their  quarters,  Lady  Pembroke  objecting  to  a  tavern; 
it  meets,  therefore,  for  the  present  at  certain  rooms  of 
Almack's,  who  for  another  year  is  to  provide  a  private 
house.  The  first  fourteen  who  imagined  and  planned  it 
settled  its  rules  and  constitution ;  these  were  framed  upon 
the  model  of  one  of  the  clubs  at  Almack's.  There  are 
seventy-five  chosen  (the  whole  number  is  to  be  200). 
The  ladies  nominate  and  choose  the  gentlemen,  and  vice 
versa ;  so  that  no  lady  can  exclude  a  lady,  or  gentleman 
a  gentleman  !  The  Duchess  of  Bedford  was  at  first  black- 
balled, but  is  since  admitted.  .  .  .  Lady  Rochford  and 
Lady  Harrington  are  blackballed,  as  are  Lord  March, 
Mr.  Boothby,  and  one  or  two  more  who  think  themselves 
pretty  gentlemen  du  premier  ordre,  but  it  is  plain  the 
ladies  are  not  of  their  opinion.  When  any  of  the  ladies 
dine  with  the  society,  they  are  to  send  word  before,  but 
supper  comes  of  course,  and  is  to  be  served  always  at 
eleven.  Play  is  to  be  deep  and  constant  probably.' 

On  January  15,  1770,  Mrs.  Delany  writes  a  cheerful 
letter  in  answer  to  her  niece's  request  for  a  *  journal': 

195 


MRS.  DELANY 

*  What  can  it  be  to  you  who  comes  in  or  goes  out  either  of 
St.  James's  or  the  Little  Thatch?  [Mrs.  Delany's  new  house]. 
You  live  in  the  pure  air,  by  the  gliding  Thames,  the  sun 
glistening  in  its  fair  face  in  the  morning,  and  your  favourite 
Luna  at  night ;  and  for  intellectual  pleasures  have  you  not 
your  amiable  friends  to  gladden  you  every  moment  ?  Well, 
now  for  a  sketch  of  a  journal.  The  pleasantest  moment 
I  spent  on  Saturday  was  when  I  scribbled  a  few  words 
to  you.  I  eat  half  a  roast  onion  for  my  supper,  and  I 
dreamed  of  hobgoblins  !  Sunday  morning  tasted  my  new 
tea,  and  was  almost  poisoned  with  it,  made  my  complaint 
immediately,  and  hope  for  redress.  Had  a  short  but  good 
sermon  at  St.  Jameses  Chapel,  and  a  very  full  Court.  I 
was  much  embarrassed  by  the  multitude  of  fine  ladies1 
chairs  joggling  against  me  between  Chapel  and  Hanover 
Square,  where  I  found  my  little  friend  pretty,  and  had  a 
little  sparring  of  politics  with  her  son.  Came  home  at 
three,  dressed,  and  went  to  dinner  at  Whitehall — no 
refusal  would  be  taken.  After  dinner  we  adjourned  to 
the  Little  Thatch  to  meet  Mrs.  Boscawen.  Went  to  bed 
exceedingly  tired.  Got  up  at  nine,  and  read  a  lecture 
to  my  family  on  the  advantages  of  early  rising!  For 
want  of  the  usual  bell  to  call  them  up  they  get  later  and 
later.' 

In  June  of  this  year  Mary  Dewes  became  engaged  to 
Mr.  Port  of  Ham,  a  man  of  good  character,  family,  and 
fortune.  For  some  unexplained  reason,  her  uncle,  Mr. 
Granville,  disapproved  of  the  match ;  and  as  his  influence 
was  paramount  in  the  family,  owing  probably  to  the  fact 
that  he  intended  to  make  one  of  the  young  Dewes  his  heir, 
the  course  of  true  love  did  not  at  first  run  smooth.  An 
extract  or  two  from  a  note  written  by  Mary  to  IVTr. 
Port  shortly  after  their  engagement  gives  some  idea  of  a 
196 


MRS.  DELANY 

well-brought-up  giiTs  love-letter  in  the  year  1770.  Mary 
was  then  twenty-four,  at  that  period  rather  a  late  age 
for  a  girl  to  be  still  unmarried,  but  it  is  probable  that  the 
training  she  had  received  from  both  her  mother  and  her 
aunt  had  rendered  her  more  fastidious  than  her  fellows. 
She  writes  from  Richmond,  where  she  was  staying  with 
Lady  Cowper : — 

'  MY  DEAR  Mu.  POET, — I  sent  you  such  a  strange,  and 
I  fear  almost  unintelligible,  scrawl  last  Thursday  that  I 
fear  you  could  scarce  make  it  out.  ...  It  is  most  charming 
weather,  and  the  moon  as  bright  as  possible  every  night 
but  the  last.  I  was  true  to  my  appointment  last  night, 
and  was  happy  in  thinking  we  were  beholding  the  same 
object  at  the  same  hour ;  that  reflection  will  be  a  still 
greater  comfort  to  me  as  you  are  removed  farther  off,  for 
our  engagement  shall  still  hold  good  for  every  full  moon 
till  we  meet,  and  then  she  will  shine  forth  with  double 
lustre,  and  every  charm  be  heightened  by  our  beholding 
it  together.  Till  that  time  arrives  we  must  console  our- 
selves in  thinking  of  each  other's  sincerity,  and  that 
everything  will  turn  out  as  we  wish  it  if  it  is  for  the 
best  it  should. 

"  Let  no  fond  love  for  earth  exact  a  sigh, 
No  doubt  divert  our  steady  steps  aside  ; 
Nor  let  us  long  to  live,  nor  dread  to  die, 
Heaven  is  our  hope,  and  Providence  our  guide." 

'I  yesterday  received  a  very  polite  note  from  Mr.  Walpole 
to  invite  me  to  Strawberry  Hill  on  Monday  next  to  meet 
the  Duchess  of  Portland  and  Mrs.  Delany,  but  I  am 
engaged,  so  have  sent  an  excuse.  ...  As  we  were  to  be 
out  the  whole  day,  I  rose  earlier  than  usual  in  order  to 
have  a  little  time  for  reading,  as  food  for  the  mind  is 

197 


MRS.  DELANY 

fully  as  necessary  as  food  for  the  body,  and  I  was  always 
delighted  with  what  Dr.  Young  says  in  one  of  his  Night 
Thoughts : — 

"A  soul  without  reflection, 
Like  a  pile  without  inhabitant, 
Soon  to  ruin  falls. " 

*  It  is  rather  hard  upon  our  sex  that  we  have  in  general 
our  own  education  to  seek  after  we  are  grown  up,  I  mean 
as  to  mental  qualifications.  In  our  childhood  writing, 
dancing,  and  music  is  what  is  most  attended  to;  and 
without  being  a  pedant,  such  a  knowledge  of  grammar  as  is 
requisite  to  make  us  speak  and  write  correctly  is  certainly 
necessary,  and  also  a  knowledge  of  history  that  one  may 
compare  past  times  with  the  present,  and  be  able  to  enter 
into  conversation  when  those  subjects  are  started,  is  very 
agreeable,  and  I  am  convinced  one  is  never  too  old  for 
improvement.  The  great  Mrs.  Macaulay l  hardly  knew 
the  meaning  of  the  word  grammar  until  she  was  thirty 
years  old,  and  now  all  her  productions  go  to  the  press 
unconnected."1 

Mr.  Granville  withheld  his  consent  to  the  marriage  for 
some  months  longer.  In  a  letter  to  her  niece,  dated  July 
15,  1770,  Mrs.  Delany  says:  'I  don't  know  what  to  say 
on  a  subject  that  occupies  my  thoughts  as  much  as  yours ; 
but  all  information  must  come  from  your  side,  as  I  am 
entirely  out  of  the  way  of  hearing  anything.  I  have 
nothing  to  recommend  to  my  dearest  Mary  during  the 
present  state  of  affairs,  but  what  her  excellent  principles 
and  good  sense  suggest,  hoping  all  will  end  well,  but  I 
own  it  is  a  severe  state  of  trial.11  In  another  letter  written 
1  Catherine  Macaulay,  author  of  A  History  of  England, 

198 


MRS.  DELANY 

about  the  same  time  Mrs.  Delany  gives  a  pleasant  account 
of  a  visit  paid  by  herself  and  the  Duchess  to  the  Garricks 
at  their  house  on  the  river :  '  Mr.  Garrick,'  she  says,  '  did 
the  honours  of  his  house  very  respectfully,  and  though  in 
high  spirits,  seemed  sensible  of  the  honour  done  them. 
Nobody  else  there  but  Lady  Weymouth  and  Mrs.  Bateman. 
As  to  Mrs.  Garrick,  the  more  one  sees  her  the  better  one 
must  like  her ;  she  seems  never  to  depart  from  a  perfect 
propriety  of  behaviour,  accompanied  with  good  taste  and 
gentleness  of  manners,  and  I  cannot  help  looking  upon 
her  as  a  wonderful  creature,  considering  all  circumstances 
relating  to  her.  The  house  is  singular  (which  you  know 
I  like),  and  seems  to  owe  its  prettiness  and  elegance  to  her 
good  taste ;  on  the  whole,  it  has  the  air  of  belonging  to 
a  genius.  We  had  an  excellent  dinner  nicely  served,  and 
when  over  went  directly  into  the  garden — a  piece  of 
irregular  ground  sloping  down  to  the  Thames,  very  well 
laid  out,  and  planted  for  shade  and  shelter ;  and  an 
opening  to  the  river  which  appears  beautiful  from  that 
spot,  and  from  Shakespeare's  Temple  at  the  end  of  the 
improvements,  where  we  drank  tea,  and  where  there  is  a 
very  fine  statue  of  Shakespeare  in  white  marble,  and  a  great 
chair  with  a  large  carved  frame,  that  was  Shakespeare's  own 
chair,  made  for  him  on  some  particular  occasion,  with  a 
medallion  of  him  fixed  in  the  back.  Many  were  the  relics 
we  saw  of  the  favourite  poet.  At  six  o'clock  Lady  Wey- 
mouth's  fine  group  of  children  walked  into  the  garden, 
which  added  to  the  agreeableness  of  the  scene,  and  Mr. 
Garrick  made  himself  as  suitable  a  companion  to  the 
children  as  to  the  rest  of  the  company.1 

Mary  Dewes's  love-affairs  were  at  last  set  straight  by  the 
all-powerful  Duchess  of  Portland,  who  invited  aunt  and 
niece  to  Bulstrode,  and  insisted  that  Mary  should  be 

199 


MRS.  DELANY 

united  to  her  lover  before  she  left  the  house.     Accord- 
ingly, the  couple  were  married  at  Bulstrode  on  December 
-  '.4,  1770,  the  consent  of  Mr.  Granville  having  been  previ- 
ously obtained.     On  December  7,  Mrs.  Delany  writes  to 
^"her  nephew,  the  Reverend  John  Dewes,  to  congratulate 
him  on  his  sister's  marriage,  '  with  a  prospect  of  as  much 
r  happiness  as  must  satisfy  all  her  friends,  and  I  thank  God 
"    ^her  health  is  so  well  established  as  to  give  the  best  hopes 
that  the  want  of  it  will  not  interrupt  the  felicity  of  two 
worthy  people,  who  seem  deserving  of  each  other;  this 
must  assure  you  of  the  good  opinion  I  have  of  Mr.JPort, 
whose  whole  behaviour  has  been  most  amiable.''     In  a 
letter  to  Lady  Andover,  written  early  in  the  New  Year, 
Mrs.  Delany  observes  that  she  has  been  quite  in  a  whirl, 
for  her  nephew  and  niece  Port  have  been  with  her,  and 
would  not  bespeak  a  table  or  a  pair  of  shoes,  but  she 
must  give  her  opinion.     The  same  letter  contains  some 
strictures  upon  the  rage  for  pleasure,  or  rather  for  vanity 
and    folly,    by   which   the    fashionable   world    was   then 
animated.      'Ladies   lose    vast    sums,1"   she   writes.       'It 
answers   their   purpose   by   killing   that  which   will   kill 
them  (time),  little  thinking  of  that  bar  where  they  must 
inevitably  appear,  and  be  arraigned  for  that  murder.     It 
mortifies  my  sex's  pride  to  see  women  expose  themselves 
//so  much  to  the  contempt  of  men,  over  whom,  I  think, 
from  nature  and  education,  if  they  were  just  to  their  own 
dignity,  they  have  so  many  advantages.' 

The  bride  and  bridegroom  left  town  the  middle  of 
January,  for  on  the  15th  Mrs.  Delany  writes  to  Mrs. 
Port :  '  Yesterday  morning  you  had  not  been  gone  half 
an  hour  when  in  came  little  Lord  Warwick  to  invite  you 
and  me  to  a  concert  to  hear  the  fiddling  woman,  etc.,  and 
promised  me  I  should  have  some  Handel ;  but  I  was  coy 
200 


MRS.  DELAKY 

till  he  promised  you  should  be  of  a  musical  party  some 
other  time,  and  I  am  to  be  presented  to  Mrs.  Pattoon ! 
To  his  little  Lordship  succeeded  the  great  Mr.  West,  who 
would  have  raised  my  vanity  excessively  did  his  heart  and 
tongue  ever  go  together.  But  this  morning  I  have  had 
a  visitor  who  always  puts  me  into  good  humour  without 
flattery;  his  angelic  looks  and  sweetness  of  manner  always 
drive  away  every  peevish  and  unreasonable  thought.  I 
won't  affront  your  discernment,  and  write  a  name  under 
this  picture."1  The  great  Mr.  West  was  probably 
Benjamin  West,  for  we  find  that  Mrs.  Delany  paid 
a  visit  to  his  studio  in  February,  and  to  that  of  Angelica 
Kaufmann.  'My  partiality  leans  to  my  sister  painter,1 
she  writes ;  '  she  certainly  has  a  great  deal  of  merit,  but 
I  like  her  history  still  better  than  her  portraits.1 
Another  interesting  visit  was  to  Christie's  to  see  the  new 
Wedgwood  ware,  with  the  neatness  and  elegance  of 
which  Mrs.  Delany  declares  herself  much  pleased,  but 
adds :  '  It  bears  a  price  only  for  those  who  have  super- 
fluous money,  though  I  had  rather  game  there  than  at 
Almack's,  and  it  would  be  more  rational;  one  would 
haye  a  pretty  thing  for  one's  money,  and  be  saved  the 
dreadful  anxiety  that  attends  other  gaming,  a  vice  of 
such  deep  dye  at  present,  that  nothing  within  my  memory 
comes  up  to  it !  The  bite  is  more  malignant  than  that  of 
a  mad  dog,  and  has  all  the  effects  of  it.1 

There  are  several  unpublished  letters  to  Mrs.  Port 
during  the  spring  of  1771,  from  which  the  following 
extracts  may  be  quoted : — 

<T.  H.  COURT,  19  March  1771. 

'  I  don1t  wonder  such  a  pleasant  home  with  so  dear  and 
valuable  a  partner  should  delight  you,  let  the  season  be 
what  it  will,  but  you  are  an  unconscionable  tantaliser  to 

201 


MRS.  DELANY 

-tell  me  of  sunshine,  beautiful  scenes,  and  singing-  birds, 
-"whilst  we  are  choked  with  yogs,  see  nothing  but  through 
a  mist,  and  the  best  musick  I  have  heard  since  you  went 
has  been  the  Yorkshire  Bun-man's  song,  who  is  again 
returned  to  his  usual  rounds.  .  .  .  When  I  come  to  Ham 
I  shall  most  certainly  commence  a  friendship  with  your 
treasure  of  a  carpenter,  as  I  have  a  particular  regard  for 
a  clever  mechanick.' 

'April  18. 

'For  fear  you  should  imagine  I  am  grunting  by  my 

chimney   corner,  this  is    to  testify  that  I  am  toute  au 

contraire  engaged  with  masquerades  up  to  the  eyes ;  am 

going  as  an  important  judge  to  give  my  opinion  on  Mrs. 

Shelley's  dress,  and  at  seven  Mrs.  R.  and  I  go  to  Lady 

Weymouth's  to  see  masques.    ...    I  very  much  doubt 

^— "whether  you   will  get  a  servant  that  has  been  used  to 

London  that  will  sit  down  quietly  in  the  country ;  there 

seems  to  be  an  universal  dissipation  of  manners  from  the 

highest  to  the  lowest,  and  the  cook  I  gave  an  account  of, 

s?  wh°  was  a  most  desirable  servant,  said  she  could  not  live 

--in  the  country — it  was  so  melancholy.1 

f1^ 

'  April  27th. 

'  I  am  full  of  busyness,  scratching  plans,  and  giving 
manifold  directions ;  as  much  is  to  be  done  to  make  my 
new  dwelling  habitable  [Mrs.  Delany  had  bought  a  house 
-in  St.  James's  Place].  The  best  part  is  finished,  which  is 
paying  for  it,  and  that  I  did  on  Thursday.  I  have  had 
all  this  morning  bricklayers  and  carpenters,  and  have 
made  use  of  all  my  spurs  to  get  it  done  time  eno'  to 
settle  all  my  goods  and  chattels  in  it  before  I  go  to  Ham, 
that  at  my  return  I  should  have  nothing  to  do  but  sit 
down  quietly  in  it.' 
202 


MRS.  DELANY 

In  September  1771,  Mrs.  Port's  first  child  was  born,  a 
girl  named  Georgina  Mary  Ann,  after  Lady  Cowper,  her 
great-aunt  and  her  grandmother.  Mrs.  Boscawen  writes 
to  her  old  friend,  Mrs.  Delany,  to  congratulate  her  on  the 
safe  and  happy  arrival  of  a  great-niece,  who,  she  adds, 
*  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  grow  up  as  like  her  great  and 
good  aunt  as  ever  she  can.  I  have  always  thought,1 
continues  the  writer  naively,  '  that  it  is  better  to  begin 
with  a  girl.  The  first  is  generally  tant  soit  pen  enfant 
gate;  now  it  is  of  much  less  consequence  to  spoil  a  girl 
than  a  boy ;  for  he  being  armed  with  power,  will  make  his 
caprices  felt,  whereas  she,  being  born  to  obey,  will  be 
reduced  to  submission  sooner  or  later.1 

Mrs.  Delany  paid  a  visit  to  the  Ports  at  Ham  after  the 
birth  of  the  child,  and  there  is  a  note  written  by  her  at 
Sudbury  on  her  homeward  journey,  in  which  she  says : 
'Could  I  have  attended  to  the  beauties,  en  passant, 
between  dear  sweet  Ham  and  this  place,  I  should  present 
my  Mary  with  such  a  mixture  of  pastoral  delights  as 
would  have  served  a  Claud  or  a  Shenstone  for  their 
whole  lives;  but  I  felt  a  tender  string  pulling  all  the 
way,  and  my  mind  could  dwell  on  nothing  but  what  I  had 
enjoyed.  However,  great  as  my  regret  was,  I  over- 
flowed with  thankfulness  to  that  good  Providence  who 
had  changed  the  apprehensions  that  for  some  time  clouded 
the  fair  scenes  at  Ham,  and  turned  our  heaviness  into 

joy-1 

The  chief  sensation  of  the  early  part  of  the  year 
1772  was  the  opening  of  the  Pantheon  in  Oxford 
Street,  a  place  of  entertainment  which  was  to  cause 
Almack's  and  Carlisle  House  to  hide  their  diminished 
heads.  The  Pantheon  started  with  a  brilliant  mas- 
querade, and  Mrs.  Delany  writes :  *  The  lighting,  and 

203 


MRS.  DfcLANY 

brilliant  eclat  on  going  in,  they  say,  was  beyond  all 
description,  and  the  going  in  and  out  made  so  easy  by 
lanes  of  constables  that  there  was  not  the  least  confusion. 
To  balance  these  delights,  the  High  Street  robbers  give 
many  panics,  but  pleasure  will  conquer  all  fears;  and 
the  men  on  horseback  with  a  pistol  at  their  breast  will  at 
last  grow  so  familiar  as  not  to  be  regarded  more  than  a 
common  turnpike  that  makes  you  pay  for  your  passage. 
Feminine  fears  as  well  as  bashfulness  are  no  more  a 
check  upon  the  female  than  upon  the  male  maccaronies ; 
pleasure  is  the  prize  they  run  for,  and  then  nothing  stops 
their  course.' 

The  deterioration  of  manners  and  morals  in  the  younger 
generation  is  a  subject  upon  which  elderly  ladies  love  to 
dwell,  and  Mrs.  Delany  is  no  exception  to  this  rule.  *  The 
strange  behaviour  of  the  young  ladies  of  the  present  age,' 
she  observes,  'makes  one  tremble  for  those  that  are  to 
come  upon  the  stage ;  and  I  think  much  is  owing  to  the 
want  of  that  humble  respectful  deference  to  parents  and 
elders  that  we  were  taught  in  our  childhood.  It  seems 
odd  in  one  of  seventy-one  years  of  age  to  link  herself  with 
twenty-five ;  but  you  had  the  blessing  of  a  pattern  and 
instructor  who  was  exempt  from  the  vanity  and  careless- 
ness of  these  modern  mothers.' 

In  the  letters  of  this  year  there  are  several  allusions  to 
the  famous  naturalists,  Sir  Joseph  Banks  and  Dr.  Solander, 
both  of  whom  had  accompanied  Captain  Cook  on  his 
voyage  round  the  world.  Mrs.  Delany  met  them  both  at 
Bulstrode  during  the  summer  when  they  were  engaged  in 
preparing  an  account  of  their  travels,  as  well  as  the  great 
work  on  Natural  History  which  was  published  at  Sir 
Joseph's  sole  expense.  Among  the  other  visitors  to 
Bulstrode  this  autumn  was  the  Princess  Amelia,  whose 
204 


MRS.  DELANY 

coming,  says  Mrs.  Delany,  '  made  some  little  disturbance 
even  in  this  palace.  All  the  comfortable  sofas  and  great 
chairs,  all  the  pyramids  of  books,  all  the  tables,  and  even 
the  spinning-wheel,  were  banished  for  the  day,  and  the 
blew  [sic]  damask  chairs  set  in  prim  order  round  the  room, 
only  one  arm\l  chair  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  room  for 
Her  Royal  Highness.  The  Duchess  met  her  at  the  hall 
door,  and  I  stood  in  the  hall ;  when  the  Princess  had  paid 
her  compliments  to  her  Grace,  she  came  up  to  me,  and 
said  many  civil  things,  which  I  hope  I  answered  properly. 
She  was  so  easy,  good-humoured,  and  entertaining  that  I 
was  glad  I  had  not  absented  myself.  She  was  delighted 
with  the  place  and  her  entertainment.  The  Princess  went 
all  over  the  house  and  garden,  but  insisted  on  the  Duchess 
and  myself  not  accompanying  her  there,  only  her  ladies. 
We  dined  at  three,  and  she  had  a  polite  attention  to  every 
ornament  on  the  table.  After  dinner  she  would  see  my 
own  apartments,  and  made  me  display  all  my  frippery 
work,  which  she  graciously  commended.  We  then 
adjourned  to  the  library,  and  at  seven  the  Princess 
returned  to  Gunnersbury  by  moonlight.1 

For  the  16th  of  September  1772,  there  is  a  letter 
headed :  '  To  Miss  Port  of  Ham,  aged  one  year,  from  her 
Aunt  Delany,  aged  seventy-two,1  which  runs  as  follows : — 

'  MY  DEAREST  LITTLE  CHILD, — This  is  your  birthday,  and 
I  wish  you  joy  of  its  return ;  perhaps  if  you  knew  what  a 
world  you  are  entered  into,  so  abounding  with  evil,  you 
would  not  say  "  Ta "  to  me  for  my  congratulations ;  but 
the  precept  and  example  of  your  excellent  parents  will  teach 
you  to  make  so  good  a  use  of  the  tryals  you  will  necessarily 
meet  with,  that  they  will  not  only  be  supportable,  but 
lead  to  a  state  of  happiness  that  will  have  no  alloy.  This 

205 


MRS.  DELANY 

is  above  your  understanding  at  present,  and  a  rattle  or  a 
little  squeaking  cuckoo  will  suit  you  better,  so  for  the 
present  I  leave  you  to  your  infantine  amusements,  which  I 
shall  be  as  ready  to  contribute  to  when  I  can,  as  I  am  to 
testify  how  dearly  you  are  beloved  by  your  great-aunt 
Delany.' 


206 


CHAPTER   XIV 

(1772-1776) 

MRS.  DELANY  does  not  often  indulge  in  gossip,  except  of 
the  most  harmless  kind ;  but  in  the  autumn  of  1772  the 
Duchess  of  Kingston,  alias  Mrs.  Hervey,  nee  Miss  Chud- 
leigh,  was  scandalising  all  London,  and  an  occasional 
allusion  to  her  and  her  eccentricities  must  have  been  quite 
irresistible.  We  read,  for  example,  that  her  Grace  '  has 
her  state  coach  following  her  wherever  she  bestows  her 
presence,  with  three  or  four  ladies  (or  rather  misses) 
called  her  maids  of  honour.  She  wears  a  sash  trimmed 
with  roses  of  ribbon,  in  each  a  large  diamond,  no  cap,  and 
diamonds  in  her  hair ;  a  tucker  edged  with  diamonds,  and 
no  more  of  a  tippet  than  makes  her  fair  bosom  con- 
spicuous rather  than  hides  it.' 

Another  lady  who  had  provided  the  town  with  a  topic 
of  conversation,  though  of  quite  a  different  kind,  was  the 
witty  Mrs.  Montagu.  She  had  lately  built  herself  a  fine 
new  house  in  Hill  Street,  one  room  in  which  had  afforded 
much  amusement  of  a  malicious  kind  to  her  large  circle  of 
acquaintance.  This  was  the  room  of  Cupidons,  which  was 
opened  with  an  assembly  for  all  the  foreigners,  literati, 
and  maccaronies  of  the  day.  'How  such  a  genius,1 
exclaims  Mrs.  Delany,  '  at  her  age,  and  so  circumstanced, 
could  think  of  painting  the  walls  of  her  dressing-room 
with  bowers  of  roses  and  jessamine,  entirely  inhabited  by 

207 


MRS.  DELANY 

little  cupids  in  all  their  wanton  ways,  is  astonishing! 
Unless  she  looks  upon  herself  as  the  wife  of  old  Vulcan, 
and  mother  of  all  these  little  loves.'' 

In  spite  of  the  occasional  absurdity  of  Mrs.  Montagu's 
taste,  Mrs.  Delany  seems  to  have  felt  a  genuine  regard 
for  her,  and  highly  approved  her  patronage  of  deserving 
men  of  letters,  such  as  Dr.  Beattie,  author  of  The  Minstrel 
and  the  Essay  on  Truth,  an  answer  to  Hume's  sceptical 
essays.  Mrs.  Delany  describes  the  Christian  Philosopher, 
as  he  was  commonly  called,  as  being  plain  in  appearance, 
with  a  sensible,  honest  countenance,  and  very  modest, 
civil  manners.  '  I  feel  the  deepest  gratitude  to  Dr.  Beattie,1 
she  writes,  'for  his  successful  endeavours  to  rescue  this 
nation  from  that  gloomy  scepticism  which  a  few  false 
philosophers  of  dangerously  shining  talents  have  so  fatally 
spread  among  us ;  miserable  philosophy  is  that  which  robs 
us  of  every  hope  in  the  hour  of  affliction,  and  of  the  sweet 
sensations  of  religious  gratitude  in  the  enjoyments  of 
prosperity.  Do  not  you  honour  Mrs.  Montagu  for  the 
part  she  has  taken  to  introduce  this  excellent  champion 
of  Christianity  into  the  notice  of  the  great  world,  and  to 
obtain  for  him  some  other  reward  than  that  of  barren  fame  ? ' 

There  are  two  or  three  unpublished  letters  of  this  year. 
In  one,  dated  April  11,  Mrs.  Delany  writes :  '  Here  is 
Miss  Foley  come  to  carry  me  off  to  Lestarfs,1  where  she 
is  to  sit  for  her  picture.  Just  returned,  not  quite  satis- 
fied. The  picture  is  like,  but  not  favourably  so ;  another 
sitting  I  hope  will  improve  it.  Lestart  is  a  great  artist 
in  his  way,  but  not  as  a  portrait  painter,  in  my  poor 
opinion. 

'  On  Wednesday  I  dined  at  Lord  Dartmouth's.  Beside 
his  own  lovely  family  (eight  in  number),  there  was  Lord 

1  Listard,  the  miniaturist,  born  at  Geneva  1702. 
208 


MRS.  DELANY 

Guildford,  and  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Montagu,  etc.  (a  .table  of 
ten,  two  removes,  second  course  14,  dessert  16 — that's  for 
P.)  ...  I  believe  I  did  not  tell  you  I  had  been  at  the 
painter's  Tuesday  morning  with  les  amans  [Miss  Foley 
and  Lord  Clanbrazil].  I  saw  a  picture  of  Lestart's  doing 
of  himself  in  miniature,  admired  it,  and  next  day  Lord 
Clanbrazil  made  me  a  present  of  it — his  whole  behaviour 
is  delicate  and  generous.  .  .  .  The  present  prattle  of  the 
town  is  Lord  Folkestone's  match  being  broken  off  with 
Miss  Duncombe — various  reasons.  The  true  one,  I  be- 
lieve, that  the  girl  did  not  know  her  own  mind,  not 
seventeen  years  of  age — no  mother  to  conduct  her.  Some 
say  she  likes  somebody  else  who  has  persuaded  her  that 
Lord  Folkestone  only  married  her  for  her  fortune ;  it  is 
not  clear  that  it  may  not  still  prove  a  match,  and  that 
the  article  of  fortune  may  palliate  the  affront.1 

'Dec.  6. 

*  At  last  Lord  Caermarthen  is  married,  and  must  be  the 
most  ungrateful  of  all  men  if  he  does  not  make  an  excellent 
husband  to  a  lady  who  has  shown  so  extraordinary  a 
partiality  to  him.  Her  finery  was  excessive — eight  full- 
dressed  gowns  and  petticoats,  twelve  dressed  sacks,  twelve 
negligees,  with  laces  and  all  suitable.  But  she  hates  dress 
as  much  as  her  mother  loves  it ;  at  their  age  they  should 
exchange  dispositions.  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  new  cousin 
Talmache,1  the  sea-man  whose  income  is  £500  a  year.  He 
has  spent  his  fortune,  but  by  some  means  has  found  the 
way  to  Lady  Bridget  Lane's  heart,  and  if  not  already 
married,  is  to  be  soon.  She  has  been  cunning  eno'  to 
secure  everything  for  herself,  and  is  so  gracious  as  to  allow 

1  Mrs.  Delany  alludes  to  John  Tollemache,  Captain,  R.N.,  fourth  son 
of  Lord  Dysart,  who  married  Lady  Grace  Carteret.  John  Tollemache 
married  Lady  Bridget  Lane  Fox,  and  was  killed  in  a  duel  in  New  York 
in  the  twenty-fifth  year  of  his  age. 

o  209 


MRS.  DELANY 

him  his  annuity  for  his  pocket-money.  The  courtship 
was  singular  and  laconish.  Mr.  Talmache  admired  a 
fine  ring  upon  Lady  B.'s  finger.  She  made  him  a  present 
of  it,  and  desired  in  return  a  small  plain  gold  hoop-ring. 
The  proposal  accepted,  she  said  to  him,  "  Are  you  not  a 
lucky  man  to  be  preferred  to  all  my  numerous  admirers  ?  " 
He  replied,  "  I  suppose  you  like  me  better  than  any  of 
them.""  There  "s  gallantry  and  delicacy  for  you  !  .  .  . 

'  As  to  your  new  friend  whom  you  have  introduced  in 
such  a  manner  to  my  esteem,  I  am  afraid  she  will  have  a 
good  deal  to  answer  for,  unless  she  proves  as  merciful  as 
powerful.  It  is  a  subject  I  can't  joke  upon,  nor  be  in- 
different to.  My  opinion  and  knowledge  of  your  brothers1 
virtue,  so  uncommon  in  this  degenerate  age,  their  in- 
genuity as  well  as  good  sense,  their  steady  adherence  to 
their  several  duties  and  engagements  in  life,  and  the 
preference  they  give  to  a  reasonable  enjoyment  of  the 
blessings  they  possess,  to  the  empty  show  and  vanity  of 
the  world  (which  their  education  and  connections  might 
easily  have  led  them  into),  will,  I  trust,  make  them  worthy 

even  of  a  Miss  I "" 

Early  in  the  year  1773,  Mrs.  John  Chapone  (ne'e 
Hester  Mulso)  brought  out  her  Letters  to  a  Young  Lady 
on  the  Improvement  of  the  Mind,  a  little  work  which  at 
one  bound  leaped  into  fame.  Mrs.  Delany  was  perhaps 
a  little  prejudiced  in  favour  of  the  book  by  the  fact 
that  its  author  was  the  daughter-in-law  of  her  old  friend 
Sally  Chapone.  *  It  appears,'  she  says,  '  to  be  upon  the 
best  plan  I  have  ever  met  with  on  the  subject.  It  is  plain 
truth  in  an  easy  elegant  style,  and  the  sentiments  natural 
and  delicate.  ...  It  sells  prodigiously.  One  should  hope 
from  that,  though  there  are  many  corrupted  minds,  there 
are  also  many  ready  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  the  charmer/ 
210 


MRS.  DELANY 

Another  work  of  a  very  different  type  was  making  a  great 
sensation  about  the  same  time.  This  was  Lord  Chester- 
field's Letters,  which  in  Mrs.  Delany's  opinion  were  'a 
medley  of  sense,  knowledge  of  the  world,  attention  to  the 
minutest  articles  of  good  breeding,  entertainment,  satire, 
and  immorality,  and  not  a  few  inconsistencies ;  for  at  the 
same  time  he  recommends  decency  of  behaviour  and  avoid- 
ing all  low  vices,  he  recommends  everything  that  can  shake 
the  foundation  of  virtue  and  religion,  though  at  times  he 
mentions  both  as  necessary.  In  short,  "  all  wickedness  is 
folly,  and  all  folly  is  inconsistency,""  says  a  wise  man  that 
I  suppose  Lord  Chesterfield  was  never  acquainted  with,  or 
at  least  was  not  wise  enough  to  be  instructed  by  him.1 
Later,  when  Bernard  Granville  lay  ill  at  Calwich,  his 
sister  sent  him  Chesterfield's  Letters  in  the  hope  that  they 
would  amuse  him,  and  gave  a  further  criticism  of  the  book, 
a  criticism  which  is  interesting  as  the  contemporary  opinion 
of  an  intelligent  woman.  '  I  am  not  at  all  surprised,' 
-she  writes,  '  that  you  should  be  entertained  with  Lord 
Chesterfield's  Letters,  and  approve  of  many  of  them,  but 
I  am  afraid  as  you  go  on  his  duplicity  and  immorality 
will  give  you  as  much  offence  as  his  indiscriminating 
accusation  does  the  ladies.  Those  who  do  not  deserve  his 
lash  despise  it,  and  conclude  he  kept  very  bad  company. 
Those  who  are  conscious  they  deserve  his  censure  will 
be  piqued,  but  silent.  The  general  opinion  of  these 
letters  among  the  better  sort  of  men  is  that  they  are 
ingenious,  useful  as  to  polish  of  manners,  but  very  hurtful 
in  a  moral  sense.  He  mentions  a  decent  regard  to  religion, 
at  the  same  time  recommends  falsehood  even  to  your  most 
intimate  acquaintance — and  adultery  as  an  accomplish- 
ment. Les  graces  are  the  sum-total  of  his  religion. 
The  conclusion  of  his  life  showed  how  inferior  his  heart 

211 


MRS.  DELANY 

was  to  his  head ;  unkind  and  ungrateful  to  an  excellent 
wife,  who  had  laid  great  obligations  upon  him,  and  the 
same  to  all  his  dependants."1 

In  the  early  '  seventies,'  the  blue-stockings,  male  and 
female,  were  causing  a  good  deal  of  amusement  to  their 
more  frivolous  acquaintance.  Mrs.  Delany,  though  she 
had  many  friends  among  them,  never  herself  belonged  to 
any  of  their  coteries,  and  had  but  small  sympathy  with 
the  pedantic  absurdities  practised  by  the  more  advanced 
members  of  the  society.  Although  she  afterwards  became 
much  attached  to  Miss  Burney,  she  refused  to  know  either 
Mrs.  Thrale  or  Doctor  Johnson,  in  spite  of  the  high  ad- 
miration in  which  she  held  the  moral  and  intellectual 
qualities  of  the  latter.  Doctor  Johnson,  however,  was 
acquainted  with  the  Ports,  and  paid  a  visit  to  Ham  in 
July  1774,  though  curiously  enough  there  is  no  mention 
of  the  visit  in  any  of  the  letters  for  that  year.  It  is 
recorded  that  in  speaking  of  Mrs.  Delany,  Doctor  Johnson 
said  he  had  heard  Edmund  Burke  observe  that  she  was 
*  a  truly  great  woman  of  fashion,  that  she  was  not  only 
the  woman  of  fashion  of  the  present  age,  but  the  highest 
bred  woman  in  the  world,  and  the  woman  of  fashion  of 
all  ages.1 

In  a  letter  dated  May  10, 1774,  there  is  an  account  of 
the  assembly  of  blue-stockings  which  was  in  the  habit  of 
meeting  at  Mrs.  Miller's  house  at  Bath  Easton.  'Once 
a  week  the  wits  produce  their  works,  judgment  passes, 
and  a  prize  is  given  to  the  best.  Lady  Spencer  and 
Lady  Georgina  Spencer  were  invited  to  a  breakfast  and 
to  partake  of  the  poetical  entertainment.  Amongst  other 
offerings  of  the  Muses,  Mr.  Miller  read  one  addressed  to 
Lady  Georgina,  which  perhaps  you  have  seen  in  the 
Public  Advertiser,  without  wishing  to  know  the  author — 
212 


MRS.  DELANY 

too  gross  a  flattery  not  to  distress  the  person  chiefly  con- 
cerned, who  blushed  and  looked  down  in  the  utmost 
confusion.  Said  Mr.  Miller,  "  Sure,  the  author  of  the 
verses  deserves  the  prize  for  having  chosen  so  fine  a 
subject.1"  It  would  have  been  a  poor  compliment  to  have 
disputed  that  judgment  in  the  presence  of  the  person,  and 
accordingly  it  was  agreed  to,  and  the  author  to  be  de- 
clared. "  It  was  I,"  says  Mr.  Miller.  "  And  now  I  will 
read  them  over  again,"  which  he  was  preparing  to  do 
when  Lady  Spencer  relieved  poor  Lady  Georgina  by 
making  her  curtsey  an  excuse,  and  withdrew."" 

A  month  later  the  young  beauty,  who  had  been  put  so 
much  out  of  countenance  by  Mr.  Miller's  effusion,  was 
married  to  the  Duke  of  Devonshire.  '  The  great  wedding 
is  over,'  writes  Mrs.  Delany  on  June  7,  'and  at  last  a 
surprise,  for  this  was  the  expected  day ;  but  they  managed 
very  cleverly,  as  they  were  all  at  the  Birthday,  and  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  danced  at  the  ball.  It  was  as  great  a 
secret  to  Lady  Georgina  as  to  the  world.  Sunday  morning 
she  was  told  her  doom ;  she  went  out  of  town  (to  Wimble- 
don) early  on  Sunday,  and  they  were  married  at  Wimble- 
don Church,  as  quietly  and  uncrowded  as  if  John  and  Joan 
had  tied  the  Gordian  knot.  Don't  think  that  because  I 
have  made  use  of  the  word  '  doom '  that  it  was  a  melan- 
choly sentence  (though  a  surprise)  to  the  young  lady ;  for 
she  is  so  peculiarly  happy  as  to  think  him  very  agreeable, 
and  had  not  the  least  regret — a  bliss  which  I  most  sin- 
cerely hope  will  prove  a  lasting  one.  The  Duke's  intimate 
friends  say  he  has  sense,  and  does  not  want  for  merit — to 
be  sure  the  jewel  has  not  been  well  polished;  had  he 
fallen  under  the  tuition  of  Lord  Chesterfield,  he  might 
have  possessed  les  graces,  but  at  present  only  that  of  his 
dukedom  belongs  to  him.'* 

213 


MRS.  DELANY 

The  great  social  event  of  this  season  was  the  splendid 
Fete  Champetre,  given  in  honour  of  the  approaching  mar- 
riage of  Lord  Stanley l  and  Lady  Betty  Hamilton.  Mrs. 
Delany  sends  Mrs.  Port  the  following  description  of  the 
entertainment,  which  came  from  one  of  the  company : — 

'  I  think  it  a  fairy  scene  that  may  equal  any  in  Madame 
Danois.  Lord  Stanley,  the  master  of  the  entertainment, 
was  dressed  like  Reubens,  Lady  Betty  Hamilton  like 
Reubens'"  wife.  The  company  were  received  upon  the 
lawn  before  the  house,  which  is  scattered  with  trees, 
and  opens  to  the  downs.  The  company  arriving  made 
the  scene  most  enchanting,  and  it  was  greatly  enlivened 
by  a  most  beautiful  setting  sun  breaking  from  a  black 
cloud  in  its  greatest  glory.  After  half  an  hour's  saunter- 
ing, the  company  were  called  to  the  other  side,  to  a  more 
confined  spot,  where  benches  were  placed  in  a  semicircle, 
and  a  fortunate  clump  of  trees  in  the  centre  of  a  small 
lawn  had  a  band  of  music ;  a  stage  was  formed  by  a  part 
being  divided  from  the  other  part  of  the  garden  with 
sticks  entwined  with  natural  flowers  in  wreaths  and 
festoons.  A  little  dialogue  between  a  shepherd  and  a 
shepherdess,  with  a  welcome  to  the  company,  was  sung 
and  said,  and  then  dancing  by  sixteen  men  and  sixteen 
women,  figurantis  from  the  opera,  lasted  about  half 
an  hour,  after  which  the  party  was  employed  in  swinging, 
shooting  with  bows  and  arrows,  and  various  country 
sports.  The  gentlemen  and  ladies  danced  on  the  green 
till  it  was  dark,  and  then  preceded  the  music  to  the  other 
side  of  the  garden,  where  a  magnificent  saloon  had  been 
built,  illuminated,  and  decorated  with  the  utmost  elegance  ; 
here  they  danced  till  supper,  when  curtains  were  drawn 

1  Afterwards  Earl  of  Derby.     His  second  wife  was  Miss  Farren,  the 
actress. 

214 


MRS.  DELANY 

up,  which  showed  the  supper  in  a  most  convenient  and 
elegant  apartment  which  was  built  quite  round  the 
saloon.  After  the  supper,  which  was  exceedingly  good 
there  was  an  interlude,  in  which  a  Druid  entered  as  an 
inhabitant  of  the  Oaks,  welcomed  Lady  Betty,  described 
the  happiness  of  Lord  Stanley,  and  in  a  prophetic  strain 
foretold  the  happiness  that  must  follow  so  happy  a  union, 
which,  with  choruses  and  singing  and  dancing  by  the 
dryads,  Cupid  and  Hymen  attending,  concluded  with 
a  transparent  painting  with  the  crest  of  Hamilton  and 
Stanley  surrounded  by  emblems  of  Cupid  and  Hymen 
crowning  it  with  a  wreath  of  flowers.  People  in  general 
were  very  elegantly  dressed ;  the  very  young  as  peasants, 
the  next  as  Polonaise,  the  matrons  in  dominos,  and  the 
men  in  dominos,  and  many  gardiniers,  as  in  the  opera 
dances.' 

During  this  summer  Mrs.  Delany  was  much  distressed 
on  account  of  her  brother's  painful  and  lingering  illness. 
The  journey  to  Calwich  was  too  long  and  too  tiring  to 
admit  of  her  undertaking  it ;  the  most  that  she  could  do 
was  to  write  frequent  gossiping  letters,  in  the  hope  that 
they  might  amuse  and  distract  the  invalid.  In  July  she 
writes  from  Bulstrode  on  a  subject  which,  a  little  later,  was 
to  create  an  extraordinary  sensation  in  society — the  trial 
for  bigamy  of  the  Duchess  of  Kingston.  This  notorious  lady 
had  made  a  short  visit  to  England,  and  then  set  off  for 
Russia,  '  her  sudden  flight  occasioned  by  Mr.  Evelyn 
Meadows  having  gone  to  law  with  her  to  prove  her  marriage 
with  Mr.  Hervey,  which  it  is  thought  he  will  certainly  do, 
having  gained  a  certain  evidence  of  it — a  man  whom  the 
Duchess  of  Kingston  gave  ten  thousand  pounds  as  hush- 
money,  and  who  for  the  same  sum  from  Mr.  Meadows  is 
gained  against  her.  So  rogues  betray  rogues ;  it  is  happy 

215 


MRS.  DELANY 

when  the  innocent  escape  their  snares.  ...  I  don't  wonder 
that  our  young  men  are  entertained  with  Lord  Chesterfield 's 
Letters,  and  I  trust  their  principles  are  too  well  grounded 
to  be  hurt  by  their  immorality.  The  present  Lord  Chester- 
field is  gone  to  finish  his  travels.  He  came  over  on  the 
death  of  the  late  Lord,  and  is  not  yet  of  age.  I  don't 
hear  him  commended,  and  his  behaviour  to  Lady  Chester- 
field was  very  unhandsome.  He  was  a  distant  relation  to 
the  late  Lord,  but  the  nearest  to  the  title.  Lord  Chester- 
field educated  this  boy,  and  had  an  attention  to  him,  not 
out  of  kindness,  but  because  he  was  to  keep  up  the  name 
and  title,  and  left  him  near  twenty  thousand  pounds  a 
year.  Lady  Chesterfield's  income  is  ,£4000  a  year,  but 
chiefly  her  own  money.  It  was  hard,  considering  how 
good  a  wife  she  had  been,  and  what  a  good  fortune  she 
was  to  him,  not  to  leave  her  in  very  affluent  circumstances 
for  her  own  life.  He  even  left  away  her  jewels,  which 
were  chiefly  purchased  with  her  own  money,  and  presents 
of  the  Duchess  of  Kendal's,  but  the  law  restored  them  to 
her  as  her  own  paraphernalia.' 

Mrs.  Delany  never  ceased  to  take  an  interest  in  the 
career  of  her  young  cousin,  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire, 
and  there  is  an  obvious  allusion  to  the  fashionable  beauty 
in  a  letter  dated  March  1775 :  '  I  really  can  say  with 
Cato,  "I  am  sick  of  this  bad  world,"  when  I  suffer  my 
imagination  to  wander  among  the  multitude ;  it  would  be 
more  supportable  could  one  select  a  number  of  any  magni- 
tude not  affected  by  the  great  whirlpool  of  dissipation 
and  (indeed,  I  fear  I  may  add)  vice.  This  bitter  reflec- 
tion rises  from  what  I  hear  everybody  say  of  a  great  and 
handsome  relation  of  ours  just  beginning  her  part;  but 
I  do  hope  she  will  be  like  the  other  young  actors  and 
actresses  who  begin  by  over-acting  when  they  first  come 
216 


MRS.  DELANY 

upon  the  stage,  and  abate  of  her  superabundant  spirits 
(that  now  mislead  her),  and  settle  into  a  character  worthy 
of  applause  and  of  the  station  she  possesses,  but  I  tremble 
for  her ! ' 

Mrs.  Delany  certainly  would  not  have  approved  of  the 
Duchess's  enthusiasm  for  politics,  or  her  canvassing  tactics 
at  the  Westminster  election ;  for  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Gran- 
ville,  written  early  in  1775,  she  observes :  '  The  world  is 
in  a  bother  about  the  American  affairs,  but  I  am  no 
politician,  and  don't  enter  into  those  matters.  Women 
lose  all  dignity  when  they  enter  into  subjects  that  don't 
belong  to  them;  their  own  sphere  affords  them  oppor- 
tunities eno'  to  show  their  real  consequence.  A  pretend- 
ing woman  and  a  trifling,  ignorant  man  are  equally 
despicable.' 

On  July  2,  1775,  Mr.  Bernard  Granville  died  at 
Calwich.  His  death  was  a  sensible  shock  to  his  sister, 
though  he  had  not  been  a  particularly  kind  or  affectionate 
brother,  never  having  quite  forgiven  her  for  her  second 
marriage  with  a  man  of  obscure  family.  His  nephew,  the 
Reverend  John  Dewes,  inherited  Calwich,  and,  some  years 
later,  took  the  name  of  Granville. 

In  the  letters  for  1775  are  several  allusions  to  Mason's 
Life  of  Gray,  which  was  evidently  the  book  of  the  day, 
and  to  the  trial  of  the  Duchess  of  Kingston,  which  enter- 
tainment seems  to  have  been  patronised  by  the  whole 
fashionable  world.  'The  solicitude  for  tickets,'  writes 
Mrs.  Delany,  'the  distress  of  rising  early  to  be  time 
enough  for  a  place,  the  anxiety  about  hairdressers,  morti- 
fication that  feathers  and  flying  lappets  should  be  laid 
aside  for  that  day,  as  they  would  obstruct  the  view, — all 
these  important  matters  were  discussed  in  my  little  circle 
last  night.  ...  I  bravely  refused  a  ticket  for  the  Queen's 

217 


MRS.  DELANY 

box,  and  going  with  our  dear  Duchess,  for  I  feared  the 
bustle  my  spirits  would  be  in,  now  unused  to  such  splendid 
appearances,  and  doubted  whether  my  eyesight  and  hear- 
ing would  have  been  at  all  gratified.1  Later  she  adds : 
'  Greatly  to  the  general  satisfaction,  the  shameless  Duchess 
is  degraded  into  as  shameless  a  countess.  Sure  there  never 
was  so  thorough  an  actress.  Garrick  says  she  has  so  much 
outacted  him,  it  is  time  for  him  to  leave  the  stage ;  but 
that  does  her  too  much  honour.  One  should  search  the 
jails  for  the  perjured,  notorious  offenders  for  a  parallel  to 
such  an  infamous  character.  She  has,  however,  escaped 
the  searing  of  her  hand,  and  is  turned  over  for  condign 
punishment  to  her  conscience.  It  was  astonishing  how  she 
was  able  to  speak  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  which 
she  did  yesterday,  but  it  was  labour  in  vain.  Bernard 
was  there  four  days,  and  so  much  fatigued  with  sitting 
ten  or  twelve  hours  that  he  gave  up  the  last  day,  but  he 
was  at  the  most  entertaining  part  of  it.' 

It  is  in  the  letters   for  1776  that  we  find   the  first 
..-^allusion  to  Mrs.  Delany's  famous  paper  mosaic  Flora,  now 
:  in  the  Print-room  at  the  British  Museum.1     This  extra- 
ordinary work  was   the  wonder   and    admiration  of  her 
contemporaries,  and  the  subject  of  praise  from  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  Horace  Walpole,  Dr.  Darwin,  and  many  other 
distinguished  men.     The  following  account  is   given    of 
the    manner  in  which  the  idea  of  a   paper   Flora  first 
occurred  to  the  inventor:  'Having  a  piece  of  Chinese 
paper  on  the  table  of  bright  scarlet,  a  scarlet  geranium 
of  the  same  colour  caught  Mrs.  Delany's  eye ;  and  taking 
out  her  scissors,  she  amused  herself  with  cutting  out  each 
flower  in  the  paper  which  resembled  its  hue ;  she  laid  the 
paper  petals  on  a  black  ground,  and  was  so  pleased  with 
1  Bequeathed  by  Lady  Llanover. 

218 


MRS.  DELANY 

the  effect  that  she  proceeded  to  cut  out  the  calyx,  stalks, 
and  leaves  in  different  shades  of  green,  and  pasted  them 
down.  After  she  had  completed  a  sprig  of  geranium  in 
this  way,  the  Duchess  of  Portland  came  in,  and  exclaimed, 
"  What  are  you  doing  with  that  geranium  ?  "  having  taken 
the  paper  imitation  for  the  real  flower.  Mrs.  Delany 
replied  that  if  the  Duchess  really  thought  it  so  like  the 
original,  a  new  work  was  begun  from  that  moment '  [1773]. 
The  work  thus  casually  begun  was  continued  for  more 
than  ten  years ;  and  when  failing  eyesight  compelled  the 
artist  to  give  up  the  undertaking,  her  Flora  contained 
.^  close  upon  a  thousand  delineations  of  flowers  and  plants. 
There  is  an  allusion  to  the  new  occupation  in  a  gossiping 
letter  to  Mrs.  Port,  dated  April  1776.  « I  don't  think,' 
writes  Mrs.  Delany,  '  I  have  heard  this  winter  of  so  many 
pranks  as  the  last ;  indeed,  everybody  has  been  so  taken 
up  with  the  modern  Moll  Flanders  [the  Duchess  of 
Kingston]  that  nothing  else  has  been  talked  of.  She  is 
now  gone  to  the  Pope  for  absolution,  but  the  Meadows 
have  not  done  with  her  yet.  .  .  .  Since  I  last  wrote  I 
had  a  visit  from  the  Duchess  of  Gordon ;  she  is  beautiful 
indeed.  Lady  Bute  brought  her  here  under  the  pretence 
of  showing  her  my  herbal,  on  purpose  to  treat  me  with 
her  beauty.  She  is  very  natural  and  good-humoured,  but 
her  very  broad  Scotch  accent  does  not  seem  to  belong  to 
the  very  great  delicacy  of  her  appearance.  The  spring 
flowers  supply  me  with  work,  for  I  have  already  done 
since  the  beginning  of  March  twenty  plants.' 


219 


CHAPTER    XV 

(1776-1779) 

^  IN  the  summer  of  1776  occurred  the  first  informal  meet- 
ing between  Mrs.  Delany  and  the  couple  who  were  to 
"  prove  her  truest  and  most  devoted  friends  during  the 

^remainder  of  her  days — George  the  Third  and  Queen 
;  Charlotte.  On  August  16th  Mrs.  Delany  writes  to  Mrs. 
Port  from  Bulstrode  :  '  Though  the  King  and  Queen  drink 
tea  here  this  evening,  and  the  Duchess  threatens  to  pro- 
duce me  among  the  antiquities,  I  am  composed  enough 
to  thank  my  darling  Mary  for  her  letter,  and  hope  the 
agreeable  party  succeeded  according  to  your  wishes.  It  is 
very  pleasant  to  see  the  improvement  of  our  manufactures, 
and  to  consider  how  many  poor  people  are  supported  by 
them  that  otherwise  would  be  starving,  or  following 
desperate  courses  for  their  maintenance ;  but  I  fear  it  is 
a  great  sign  of  the  depravity  of  our  nation  that  though 
there  is  all  manner  of  encouragements  and  employments 
to  engage  them  besides  defending  their  country  from  re- 
bellious oppression,  that  there  should  at  this  time  be  so 
much  robbing,  but  I  am  very  apt  to  think  those  dis- 
honourable collectors  are  more  among  the  middling  than 
the  poorer  sort ;  everybody  in  all  ranks  and  degrees  live 
above  their  fortunes — avarice,  vanity,  and  pride  make 
spendthrifts.  Only  an  hour's  reflection  on  their  conduct, 
had  they  any  principles,  would  show  them  how  much 
more  disgraceful  it  is  to  run  in  debt  than  to  retrench  in 
220 


MRS.  DELANY 

order  to  do  justice,  or  to  live  within  bounds  in  order  to 
prevent  what  in  time  must  bring  ruin  or  disgrace  to  their 
families.  I  am  led  to  these  reflections  from  having  heard  so 
much  lately  of  our  cousins  [the  Foleys],  but  it  seems  I  must 
have  thrown  away  some  compassion,  for  it  is  now  thought 
a  good  joke  that  Lady  Harriet  Foley  was  handed  out 
of  her  own  house  into  her  coach  by  two  bailiffs.  Ah !  poor 
bashfulness !  Ah  !  gentle  modesty  !  where  are  you  flown  ? 
Extravagance  and  effrontery  have  taken  your  places.1 

In  a  letter  to  Lady  Andover,  Mrs.  Delany  gives  the 
following  account  of  the  royal  visit :  '  Great  have  been 
our  visiting  exploits,  numerous  have  been  the  visitors 
of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  from  the  King  and  Lord  Mansfield 
down  to  Edmund  Burke,  from  the  Queen  and  Lady 
Weymouth  down  to  Miss  Wheat.  On  Monday  evening, 
between  six  and  seven,  came  their  serene  Majesties, 
in  a  chaise  with  a  pair  of  horses  and  grooms  attend- 
ing. Lady  Weymouth  came  with  them.  All  things 
were  prepared  for  their  reception,  and  the  drawing-room 
divested  of  every  comfortable  circumstance.  I  pleaded 
hard  with  her  Grace  for  permission  to  go  that  day  to 
London ;  she  was  inexorable ;  but  I  still  had  hopes  that 
so  insignificant  a  person  would  be  overlooked,  and  that  I 
should  be  fully  gratified  with  seeing  their  royalties  from 
the  window,  or  through  a  keyhole !  But  I  was  mistaken, 
and  Lady  Weymouth  was  sent  by  the  Queen  to  desire  I 
would  bring  the  hortus  siccus.  I  obeyed,  and  what  does 
your  Ladyship  think? — that  I  was  miserable  or  wished 
myself  at  York  ?  No,  truly ;  I  was  charmed,  and  I  was 
pleased,  and  I  even  wished  they  had  staid  half  an  hour 
longer.  They  did  great  justice  to  dear  Lady  Weymouth^s 
merit,  and  spoke  not  only  with  approbation,  but  with 
kindness,  of  everybody  they  knew  our  most  dear  friend  had 

221 


MRS.  DELANY 

a  regard  for;  nor  was  Lord  Suffolk  and  Lady  Andover 
forgot !  In  short,  had  I  been  told  that  the  King  and  Queen 
had  made  the  Duchess  of  Portland  a  visit,  and  that  she  was 
neither  weary  nor  hurt  by  it,  I  could  hardly  have  believed  it 
— but,  indeed,  they  seemed  to  receive  great  pleasure  from  it 
themselves,  took  notice,  and  admired  everything;  and, 
above  all,  I  am  sure,  the  possessor  of  what  gave  them  so 
much  entertainment.  I  had  my  panics  that  she  would 
stand  till  she  grew  faint,  but  the  King  and  Queen  insisted 
on  her  sitting  down  the  greatest  part  of  the  time.1 

In  November  of  this  year,  Court  Dewes,  Mrs.  Delany's 
eldest  nephew,  paid  a  visit  to  Paris,  carrying  with  him  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  Rousseau.  From  thence  he 
wrote  a  long  and  interesting  letter  to  his  aunt,  with  the 
following  curious  account  of  his  endeavour  to  find  the 
sentimental  philosopher :  *  I  am  not  without  hopes  of 
seeing  Rousseau,  though  I  have  not  done  so  as  yet.  As 
soon  as  I  arrived  I  called  at  his  lodgings,  up  three  pair  of 
stairs,  in  an  unfashionable  part  of  the  town,  and  a  mean- 
looking  house,  making  a  striking  contrast  to  the  ostenta- 
tion with  which  his  rival  Voltaire  lives  at  his  chateau,  as 
he  calls  it,  at  Ferney.  I  was  admitted  into  a  little  kind 
of  ante-chamber,  filled  with  bird-cages ;  there  I  saw 
Madame  Rousseau  (nte  Vasseur).  She  told  me  her  hus- 
band (she  repeated  "  bon  marl "  ten  times,  I  believe,  in  the 
course  of  five  minutes''  conversation)  had  had  a  fall,  had 
hurt  himself,  and  could  not  see  anybody ;  but  if  I  would 
call  in  a  week's  time,  I  might  see  him.  I  left  my  letter, 
and  in  about  a  week  sent  to  know  how  he  did,  and  if  he 
was  well  enough  to  admit  me ;  but  he  still  continued  too 
ill  to  receive  visits.  I  fancy  he  is  really  so,  for  I  do  not 
find  that  when  he  is  well  he  is  uncommonly  difficult  of 
access.  He  now  has  resumed  his  first  occupation,  and 
222 


MRS.  DELANY 

copies  music  for  hire,  esteeming  it  his  duty  to  evince  by 
his  practice  the  truth  of  what  he  has  somewhere  said, 
that  every  one  in  society  ought  to  have  some  occupation. 
I  shall  call  upon  him  again  to-morrow,  and  then,  if  I  do 
not  succeed,  give  the  matter  up.' 

There  is  an  occasional  allusion  to  the  war  with  America 
during  the  winter ;  and  in  a  letter  dated  May  1778  is  the 
announcement  of  the  death  of  Lord  Chatham.  '  He  never 
recovered  his  fall  in  the  House  of  Lords,  but  I  dare  say  it 
was  a  consolation  to  him,  under  all  sufferings,  to  think 
that  he  died  in  his  calling.  Many  panegyrics,  many 
aspersions,  will  be  bandied  backwards  and  forwards,  as  no 
man  ever  was  higher  or  lower  in  his  sentiments  and  in  the 
estimation  of  the  world ;  but  he  had  undoubtedly  great 
abilities,  and  he  had  served  his  country.  He  would  have 
been  a  truly  great  character  had  not  an  unbounded  am- 
bition, and  a  vanity  hardly  to  be  equalled,  tarnished  his 
good  qualities.  What  havoc  do  those  two  great  under- 
miners  of  virtue  make  in  the  human  heart !  and  how 
much  safer  and  more  eligible  is  that  state  of  life  that 
saves  us  from  such  destructive  temptations  ! ' 

The  name  of  Hannah  More  first  makes  its  appearance 
in  the  correspondence  about  this  time.  Mrs.  Boscawen, 
writing  to  Mrs.  Delany  in  June  1778,  remarks:  '  I  am  very 
glad  you  approve  of  Miss  Morels  Essays-,  such  an  Im- 
primatur does  her  honour.  I  believe  her  to  be  a  worthy 
and  religious  woman  of  exceedingly  good  principles,  and 
then  one  may  hope  that  whatever  she  writes  may  do  some 
good  ;  at  least,  we  are  sure  it  can  do  no  harm.  She  wrote 
that  she  had  the  honour  of  a  very  polite  card  from  Mrs. 
Delany,  and  was  much  flattered  with  her  notice.' 

In  Hannah  More's  poem, '  Sensibility,'  which  appeared  in 
1778,  many  of  the  great  (and  little)  people  of  the  day 

223 


MRS.  DELANY 

were  described  in  terms  of  rather  fulsome  laudation.  The 
Duchess  of  Portland,  Mrs.  Boscawen,  and  Mrs.  Delany 
were  all  immortalised  (!)  in  this  effusion,  the  latter  being 
the  subject  of  the  following  lines :- — 

'  '  Delany  shines,  in  worth  serenely  bright, 

Wisdom's  strong  ray,  and  virtue's  milder  light. 

And  she  who  blessed  the  friend  and  graced  the  page       .  , 
^*Of  Swift,  still  lends  her  lustre  to  our  age  : 

Long,  long  protract  thy  light,  O  star  benign  ! 

Whose  setting  beams  with  added  brightness  shine  ! ' 

In  the  summer  of  1778  the  social  intercourse  between 
Bulstrode  and  Windsor  grew  more  intimate,  and  visits  to 
and  from  the  royal  neighbours  were  of  frequent  occurrence. 
On  August  12  (the  Prince  of  Wales1  birthday)  the  King 
and  Queen,  with  eight  of  their  children  and  numerous 
attendants,  fifty  persons  in  all,  drove  over  to  breakfast  at 
Bulstrode.  The  letters  to  Mrs.  Port  and  Lady  Andover 
contain  full  accounts  of  all  that  passed  on  this  occasion, 
and  also  during  the  return  visit  to  Windsor,  which 
took  place  -a  day  later.  *  Before  twelve  o'clock,1  writes 
Mrs.  Delany,  'the  cavalcade  drove  into  the  court,  the 
Dowager-Duchess  of  Portland  ready  on  the  steps  at  the 
hall-door  to  receive  her  royal  guests.  I  was  below  stairs 
in  my  own  apartment,  not  dressed,  and  uncertain  if  I 
should  be  thought  of.  But  down  came  Lady  Weymouth 
(with  her  pretty  eyes  sparkling)  with  the  Queen's  com- 
mands that  I  should  attend  her,  which  I  did.  The  Queen 
most  graciously  came  up  to  me  and  the  three  princesses. 
The  King  and  the  two  eldest  princes  were  in  the  dining-room 
looking  at  the  pictures,  but  soon  came  in,  and  they  all  went 
in  a  train  through  the  great  apartment  to  the  Duchess's 
china  closet,  and,  with  wondering  and  inquiring  eyes, 
admired  all  her  magnificent  curiosities.  They  staid  above 
224 


MRS.  DELANY 

half  an  hour,  and  I  took  that  time  to  take  breath, 
and  sit  down  quietly  in  the  drawing-room.  When  they 
returned,  the  Queen  sat  down  and  called  me  to  her  to 
talk  about  the  chenille  work,  praising  it  much  more 
than  it  deserved,  but  with  a  politeness  that  could  not  fail 
of  giving  pleasure ;  and,  indeed,  her  manners  are  most 
engaging,  there  is  so  much  dignity  and  affability  blended 
that  it  is  hard  to  say  whether  one's  respect  or  love  pre- 
dominates. 

'  The  Duchess  brought  her  Majesty  a  dish  of  tea,  rolls 
and  cakes,  which  she  accepted,  but  would  cany  it  back 
herself  when  she  had  drunk  the  tea  into  the  gallery, 
where  everything  proper  for  the  time  of  day  was  prepared. 
The  King  drank  chocolate;  the  younger  part  of  the  company 
seemed  to  take  a  good  share  of  all  the  good  things.  The 
King  was  all  spirits  and  good  humour,  extremely  pleased, 
as  well  as  the  Queen,  with  the  place  and  the  entertainment. 
The  King  asked  me  if  I  had  added  to  my  book  of  flowers, 
and  desired  he  might  see  it.  It  was  placed  on  a  table 
before  the  Queen,  who  was  attended  by  the  Princess  Royal 
and  the  rest  of  the  ladies,  the  King  standing  and  looking 
over  them.  I  kept  my  distance  till  the  Queen  called  to 
me  to  answer  some  question  about  a  flower,  when  I  came, 
and  the  King  brought  a  chair  and  set  it  at  the  table,  and 
graciously  took  my  hand  and  seated  me  in  it,  an  honour 
I  could  not  receive  without  some  confusion  and  hesitation. 
"  Sit  down,  sit  down,"  said  her  Majesty ;  "  it  is  not  every 
one  has  a  chair  brought  them  by  a  king.11 

'It  would  take  a  quire  of  paper  to  tell  you  all  that 
passed  at  Bulstrode  that  morning ;  and  I  must  carry  you 
on  to  new  scenes  and  honours  at  Windsor.  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  saying  to  the  Queen  that  it  had  long  been 
my  wish  to  see  all  the  royal  family.  Upon  which  she  said, 
p  225 


MRS.  DELANY 

"  You  have  not  seen  them  all  yet,  but  if  you  will  come 
to  Windsor  Castle  with  the  Duchess  you  shall  see  them 
altogether.11  The  King  came  up  to  us ;  and  on  her  telling 
him  what  had  passed,  he  confirmed  the  same,  and  the 
next  day  was  named,  but  that  I  must  defer  to  another 
opportunity.1 

The  story  of  the  return  visit  is  told  in  a  letter  dated 
August  21 :  '  I  was  commanded  to  attend  the  Duchess  of 
Portland  to  Windsor  Castle,  which  I  did.  We  got  there 
by  six,  the  hour  appointed,  and  was  received  in  the  lower 
apartment  at  the  castle.  In  the  first  large  room  were  the 
three  eldest  princesses  and  the  ladies  that  attend  them. 
We  passed  through  to  the  Queers  bed-chamber,  where  she 
was  with  Lady  Weymouth  and  Lady  Charlotte  Finch. 
She  received  the  Duchess  with  gracious  smiles,  and  was  so 
easy  and  condescending  in  her  manner  to  me,  that  I  felt 
no  perturbation,  though  it  is  so  long  a  time  since  I  was 
conversant  with  kings  and  courts.  The  Queen  sate  down, 
and  not  only  made  the  ladies  do  the  same,  but  had  a 
chair  placed  for  me  opposite  to  her,  asking  me  at  the  same 
time  "  if  it  was  too  much  in  the  air  from  the  door  and  the 
window.11  What  dignity  such  strokes  of  humanity  and 
delicate  good  breeding  add  to  the  highest  rank  !  In  that 
room  were  the  two  youngest  princesses,  one  not  three,  the 
other  not  a  year  old,  both  lovely  children.  Princess 
Mary,  a  delightful  little  creature,  curtseying  and  prattling 
to  everybody.  She  calls  the  Duchess  "  Lady  Weymouth^ 
mama.11  She  asked  me  if  I  was  "  another  mama  of  Lady 
Weymouth^.11  A  little  before  seven  the  King  and  his 
seven  sons  came  into  the  room  ;  and  after  a  great  deal  of 
gracious  conversation,  the  Queen  told  the  Duchess  she 
hoped  she  would  excuse  her  taking  her  usual  walk  with 
the  King  and  all  the  princes  and  princesses  on  the  terrace, 
226 


MRS.  DELANY 

"as  the  people  constantly  expected  to  see  them.11  The 
Queen  said  she  would  leave  Lady  Weymouth,  that  the 
Duchess  might  not  lose  any  of  her  company,  and  the  Queen 
went  and  fetched  the  Bishop  of  Lichfield  to  be  of  our 
party  until  they  came  in  from  their  walk,  which  lasted 
half  an  hour.  When  they  returned,  the  King,  Queen,  etc., 
went  into  the  next  room,  where  the  musick  was  playing  and 
the  tea  ready.  I  kept  back,  as  you  may  imagine,  not 
advancing  but  as  I  was  called.  Princess  Mary  was  sitting 
in  the  first  window,  looking  at  the  crowd  gathered  under 
it.  I  stopped,  and  she  asked  me  several  questions,  in 
which  time  I  was  separated  from  the  rest  of  my  train,  and 
liked  my  corner  so  well  that  I  remained  there. 

'  The  princes  and  princesses  had  a  mind  to  dance.  They 
were  permitted  to  do  so,  and  were  a  pretty  show  indeed. 
I  was  so  pleased  with  seeing  them  dance  that  I  forgot  I 
was  standing  all  the  time,  when  the  Duke  of  Montague 
came  up  to  me  and  drew  a  chair  for  me,  saying  the  King 
had  sent  him  to  desire  me  to  sit  down,  which  I  then  found 
I  was  glad  to  do.  The  princes,  between  their  dances, 
came  up  and  talked  to  me  with  the  greatest  politeness  and 
good  humour.  The  King  came  to  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
who  was  standing  near  me,  and  said  he  thought  they  had 
better  dance  no  more  to  that  musick,  being  composed  of 
hautbois  and  other  wind  musick,  as  he  thought  it  must 
be  painful  to  them  to  play  any  longer,  and  his  Majesty 
was  sure  the  princes  would  be  unwilling  to  hurt  them,  but 
at  the  Queen's  house  they  should  have  properer  musick, 
and  dance  as  long  as  they  liked.  The  word  was  given, 
and  their  Majesties  walked  to  the  Queen's  house,  which  is 
across  the  great  court  and  part  of  Windsor  town.  The 
Queen  said  that  she  had  ordered  a  chaise  for  the  Duchess 
and  me,  as  she  thought  that  walking  might  not  be  agree- 

227 


MRS.  DELANY 

able.  We  followed,  and  were  ushered  into  the  house  by 
the  gentlemen  that  were  ready  at  the  door.  Indeed,  the 
entrance  into  the  first  room  was  eblouissante  after  coming 
out  of  the  sombre  apartment  in  Windsor,  all  furnished 
with  beautiful  Indian  paper,  chairs  covered  with  em- 
broideries of  the  liveliest  colours,  glasses,  tables,  sconces, 
in  the  best  taste,  the  whole  calculated  to  give  the  greatest 
cheerfulness  to  the  place.  The  second  room  we  passed 
through  was  the  musick  room,  where  the  concert  began  as 
soon  as  we  entered.  As  I  was  the  last  in  the  train,  and 
timid  of  being  too  forward,  I  stopped  in  this  room,  where 
the  King  soon  came,  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  led  me  into 
the  drawing-room.  After  looking  about  and  admiring 
the  encouragement  given  to  our  own  manufactures,  we 
went  back  into  the  first  room,  and  were  all  seated.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Bishop  of  Osnaburg  [Prince 
Frederick]  began  the  ball,  and  danced  a  minuet  better 
than  I  ever  saw  it  danced.  Then  the  Prince  of  Wales 
danced  with  the  Princess  Royal,  who  has  a  very  graceful, 
agreeable  air,  but  not  a  good  ear.  The  delightful  little 
Princess  Mary,  who  had  been  a  spectator  all  this  time, 
then  danced  with  Prince  Adolphus  a  dance  of  their  own 
composing,  and  soon  after  all  were  dispersed.  We  got 
into  the  chaise  about  ten,  and  got  home  very  much  pleased 
with  our  entertainment,  and  less  fatigued  than  I  could 
have  imagined.' 

Towards  the  end  of  1778  Mrs.  Port  brought  up  her 
little  daughter  Georgina,  then  seven  years  old,  to  stay 
with  her  great-aunt  Delany,  and  take  lessons  from  London 
masters.  Mrs.  Delany  had  begged  that  she  might  have 
the  charge  of  her  niece,  and  the  arrangement  seems  to 
have  proved  in  every  way  a  happy  one ;  the  small  Georgina 
being,  as  her  aunt  frequently  affirms,  as  good  as  gold,  and 
228 


MRS.  DELANY 

no  trouble.  The  child's  first  letter  home  does  great  credit 
to  her  seven  years,  and  proves  that  the  relations  between 
parents  and  children  at  that  date  were  not  so  universally 
distant  and  formal  as  is  generally  supposed. 

'  I  was  so  happy  with  your  letter,  dear  mama,11  begins 
Georgina,  *  that  I  longed  to  write  to  you,  but  Mr.  Bolton 
[the  writing-master]  was  cruel,  though  A.  D.  [Aunt  Delany] 
is  not.  I  am  very  happy  here.  I  often  think  of  you,  and 
wish  you  could  now  and  then  step  over  here  j  ust  to  see  how 
well  A.  D.  and  I  agree,  and  that  I  might  kiss  my  dear  mama 
and  ask  her  blessing.  I  have  seen  a  number  of  fine  people, 
and  Lady  Cowper  in  all  her  jewels,  with  a  rose  in  the 
middle  of  her  bows.  My  A.  D.  insists  on  my  wearing 
gloves,  and  tells  me  I  am  to  take  rhubarb — I  don't  like  it, 
but  I  will  do  it  because  you  desire  it.  Mr.  French  [the 
dancing-master]  is  very  tall,  makes  fine  bows,  takes  a  great 
deal  of  pains,  and  says  "  Bravo  ! "  when  I  do  well.  The 
Duchess  of  Portland  has  brought  me  from  Bulstrode  all 
the  flowers  you  can  think  of,  and  she  asks  me  every  day 
how  my  A.  D.  does."* 

Mrs.  Delany  continued  to  work  at  her  paper  Flora  as 
diligently  as  she  had  formerly  worked  at  her  painting. 
The  latter  pursuit  she  had  not  the  heart  to  take  up  again 
after  her  husband's  death,  and  the  consequent  loss  of  his 
approval  and  encouragement.  In  July  1779  she  wrote 
down  the  following  short  account  of  the  motives  which 
had  led  to  the  undertaking  of  this  work  : — 

*  The  paper  mosaic  work  was  begun  in  the  seventy -fourth 
year  of  my  age  (which  I  at  first  only  meant  as  an  imitation 
of  a  Jiortus  siccus)  and  as  an  employment  and  amusement 
to  supply  the  loss  of  those  which  had  formerly  been  a 
delight  to  me,  but  had  lost  their  power  of  pleasing,  being 
deprived  of  that  friend  whose  partial  approbation  was  my 

229 


MRS.  DELANY 

pride,  and  had  stampt  a  value  on  them.  Though  the  effect 
of  this  work  was  more  than  I  expected,  I  thought  that  a 
whim  of  my  own  fancy  might  fondly  beguile  my  judgment 
to  think  better  of  it  than  it  deserved ;  and  I  should  have 
dropped  the  attempt  as  vain  had  not  the  Duchess  Dowager 
of  Portland  looked  on  it  with  favourable  eyes.  Her 
approbation  was  such  a  sanction  to  my  undertaking  as 
made  it  appear  of  consequence,  and  gave  me  courage  to 
go  on  with  confidence.  To  her  I  owe  the  spirit  of  pursuing 
it  with  diligence  and  pleasure.  To  her  I  owe  more  than 
I  dare  express,  but  my  heart  will  ever  feel  with  the  utmost 
gratitude  and  tenderest  affection  the  honour  I  have  enjoyed 
in  her  most  generous,  steady,  and  delicate  friendship  for 
above  forty  years.  MARY  DELANY. 

'  The  same  desire,  the  same  ingenious  arts 
Delighted  both,  we  owned  and  blessed  that  power 
That  joined  at  once  our  studies  and  our  hearts.' 

Mrs.  Delany's  remarkable  success  in  her  newly-invented 
art  attracted,  as  has  been  said,  a  great  deal  of  attention 
from  her  contemporaries.  Sir  Joseph  Banks,  the  famous 
naturalist,  used  to  say  that  her  paper  representations  of 
flowers  were  the  only  imitations  of  Nature  he  had  ever 
seen  from  which  he  could  venture  to  describe  botanically 
any  plant  without  the  least  fear  of  making  a  mistake. 
Dr.  Erasmus  Darwin  in  his  Botanical  Garden  alludes  to 
the  Flora  with  about  as  much  accuracy  as  poetical  in- 
spiration in  the  following  lines  : — 

'  So  now  Delany  forms  her  mimic  bowers, 
Her  paper  foliage  and  her  silken  flowers  ; 
Her  virgin  train  the  tender  scissors  ply, 
Vein  the  green  leaf,  the  purple  petals  dye  ; 
Round  wiry  stems  the  flaxen  tendril  bends, 
Moss  creeps  below,  and  waxen  fruit  impends. 

230 


MRS.  DELANY 

Cold  winter  views  amid  his  realms  of  snow 
Delany's  vegetable  statues  blow  ; 
Smoothes  his  stern  brow,  delays  his  hoary  wing, 
And  eyes  with  wonder  all  the  blooms  of  spring. ' 

Prosaic  as  this  tribute  sounds,  it  yet  contains  a  highly 
imaginative  description  of  the  Flora,  which  was  composed 
entirely  of  coloured  paper.  Lady  Llanover  gives  the 
following  minute  account  of  the  inventor's  methods: — 
'Mrs.  Delany  placed  the  growing  plant  before  her. 
Behind  it  she  put  a  sheet  of  black  paper,  doubled  in 
the  form  of  a  folding  screen,  which,  forming  a  dark 
background,  threw  out  distinctly  the  outlines  of  the 
leaves  and  flowers.  She  did  not  draw  the  plant,  but  by 
her  eye  cut  out  each  flower,  or  rather  each  petal,  as  it 
appeared;  the  lights  and  shades  were  afterwards  cut 
out,  and  laid  on,  being  pasted  one  over  the  other.  The 
stamina  and  leaves  were  done  in  the  same  manner,  in 
various  coloured  papers,  which  she  used  to  procure  from 
captains  of  vessels  coming  from  China,  and  from  paper- 
stainers,  from  whom  she  used  to  buy  pieces  of  paper  in 
which  the  colours  had  run,  producing  unusual  tints.  In 
this  manner  she  procured  her  materials,  but  that  part  of 
the  work  which  appears  likely  ever  to  remain  a  mystery  is 
the  way  in  which  by  the  eye  alone  scissors  could  be 
directed  to  cut  out  the  innumerable  parts  necessary  to 
complete  the  outline  and  shading  of  every  leaf,  flower, 
and  stem  so  that  they  all  hung  together  and  fitted  each 
other  as  if  they  had  been  produced  instantaneously  by  the 
stroke  of  a  magic  wand.1 


231 


CHAPTER    XVI 

(1779-1783) 

DURING  the  summer  and  autumn  of  this  year  (1779)  there 
was  the  usual  exchange  of  neighbourly  civilities  between 
Windsor  and  Bulstrode.  In  a  letter  to  her  little  niece, 
Mrs.  Delany  describes  a  visit  to  the  Queen's  Lodge  on  the 
occasion  of  the  Princess  Royal's  birthday,  when  only  twelve 
of  the  royal  family  were  present,  Prince  William  being 
with  the  fleet :  *  Princess  Mary,  a  most  sweet  child,  was  in 
cherry-coloured  tabby,  with  silver  leading-strings ;  she  is 
about  four  years  old.  She  could  not  remember  my  name ; 
but,  making  a  low  curtsey,  said,  "How  do  you  do,  Duchess 
of  Portland's  friend  ?  and  how  does  your  little  niece  do  ? 
I  wish  you  had  brought  her."  The  King  carried  about  in 
his  arms  by  turns  the  Princess  Sophia  and  the  last  prince, 
Octavius.  I  never  saw  more  lovely  children,  nor  a  more 
pleasing  sight  than  the  King's  fondness  for  them,  nor  the 
Queen's,  for  they  seem  to  have  but  one  mind,  and  that  is  to 
make  everything  easy  and  happy  about  them.  The  King 
brought  the  little  Octavius  in  his  arms  to  me,  who  held  out 
his  hand  to  play  with  me,  which,  on  my  taking  the  liberty 
to  kiss,  his  Majesty  made  him  kiss  my  cheek.' 

A  quaint  letter  from  Mrs.  Rea,  Mrs.  Delany's  waiting- 
woman,  to  little  Miss  Port  describes  another  royal  visit 
to  Bulstrode.     'A  Saturday  morning,'  she  writes,  'the 
232 


MRS.  DELANY 

Queen,  the  Princess  Royal,  Princess  Augusta,  and  Princess 
Sophia  came  here  to  make  a  visit  to  the  Duchess ;  they 
came  in  at  one  and  staid  till  three ;  and  when  they  whent 
away,  the  Queen  came  up  to  Mrs.  Delany  and  put  a  packet 
into  her  hand,  and  said  in  a  most  gracious  manner  she 
hoped  Mrs.  Delany  would  look  at  that  sometimes,  and 
remember  her.  When  your  aunt  opened  it,  it  was  a  most 
beautiful  pocket-case,  the  outside  white  sattin,  worked 

with  gold,  the  inside but  it  is  impossible  for  me  to 

describe  it,  it  is  so  elegant ;  it  is  lined  with  pink  sattin, 
and  contains  a  knife,  scizzars,  pencil,  rule,  compass,  bodkin, 
and  more  than  I  can  say,  but  it  is  all  gold  and  mother-o1- 
pearl.  At  one  end  there  was  a  little  letter-case,  that 
contained  a  letter  directed  to  Mrs.  Delany,  written  by 
the  Queen's  own  hand,  which  she  will  send  a  copy  of  to 
your  mama.  Sunday  morning  the  Duchess  received  a 
letter  from  Miss  Hambleton  to  let  her  know  the  King  and 
Queen  intended  her  a  visit  in  the  evening.  They  came 
with  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  three  of  the  princesses.  I 
wish  you  had  been  here  to  see  the  sight ;  their  attendants 
carried  flambeaux  before  them,  and  they  made  a  fine  show 
in  the  park.  Her  Grace  had  the  house  lighted  up  in  the 
most  magnificent  manner ;  the  chandelier  in  the  grate  hall 
had  not  been  lighted  for  twenty  years.  Their  entertain- 
ment was  tea,  coffee,  ices,  and  fruite.  They  were  all 
dressed  in  blue  tabby,  with  white  sattin  petticotes.  The 
Queen  sat  on  the  sofa  in  the  drawing-room,  and  the 
Duchess  by  her ;  the  King  took  Mrs.  Delany  by  the  hand, 
and  seated  himself  by  her,  and  placed  a  screen  before  her, 
so  that  the  fire  might  not  hurt  her  eyes.  The  Princess 
Augusta  plaid  on  the  harpsichord,  and  the  Prince  of 
Wales  sung  to  her.  They  all  seemed  very  happy,  and 
well  pleased  with  their  entertainment.  They  looked  over 

233 


MRS.  DELANY 

Mrs.  Delany's  nine  volumes  of  flowers,  and  whent  away 
about  half-past  ten.  My  mistress  was  not  in  the  least 
fatigued,  but  highly  delighted  with  the  gracious  manners 
of  the  King  and  Queen.1 

Mrs.  Delany  returned  to  her  house  in  St.  James's  Place 
for  the  winter,  where  she  again  had  the  company  of  her 
little  niece,  Georgina  Port.  A  curious  old  piece  of  scandal 
is  related  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Port,  dated  December  1779, 
announcing  the  death  of  the  second  Lord  Lyttelton  :  '  I 
would  fain  give  you  some  account  of  Lord  Littleton's  sad 
end ;  so  wicked  a  wretch  hardly  breathed,  heightened  by 
his  having  had  extraordinary  parts,  which  he  basely 
abused — a  good  figure,  rank,  and  a  great  fortune,  what 
an  honour  he  might  have  been  to  his  family  and  to  his 
country  !  Hagley  is  within  a  few  miles  of  Mrs.  Amphlet's, 
a  widow  with  a  son  and  two  daughters.  She  was  aunt,  or 
cousin-german,  to  the  good  Lord  Littleton,  this  wretch's 
father.  The  late  Lord  visited  there  often  as  a  neighbour  and 
relation.  One  day,  in  the  course  of  the  summer,  he  dined 
there,  and  feigned  himself  so  ill  that  he  must  lye  there  all 
night.  Unfortunately,  Mrs.  Amphlet  was  taken  very  ill 
in  the  night,  and  was  confined  to  her  bed  for  some  days, 
during  which  time  the  diabolical  scheme  was  laid.  Lord 
L.  returned  to  Hagley  in  two  or  three  days,  and  the  day 
after  the  elder  Miss  Amphlet  told  her  mother  she  must  go 
and  inquire  after  my  lord's  health.  She  went,  whether 
with  the  mother's  consent  I  cannot  tell,  but  at  that  time 
she  had  no  suspicion  about  them. 

'A  message  was  sent  back  that  her  daughter  was  so 
happy  where  she  was  that  she  would  not  return.  Every 
means  was  made  use  of  by  the  poor  mother  to  bring  her 
back,  but  to  no  purpose;  and,  after  a  series  of  more 
circumstances  than  I  can  relate,  the  younger  daughter  was 
234 


MRS.  DELANY 

inveigled  to  join  their  wicked  society,  and  left  her  mother 
dying  of  a  broken  heart.  She  is  now  happily  released, 
and,  I  believe,  died  before  Lord  Littleton,  who  certainly 
had  a  remarkable  dream  of  seeing  a  bird  turned  into  a 
woman,  who  gave  him  warning  of  his  approaching  end. 
He  told  his  dream  to  several  people,  and  that  he  was 
limited  to  three  days.  On  the  morning  of  the  third  day 
he  told  several  of  his  acquaintance,  being  then  in  town, 
that  the  time  was  nearly  expired,  and  seemed  unapprehen- 
sive of  any  further  consequence.  He  carried  the  two 
miserable  girls  and  another  woman  of  his  society  to  spend 
some  days  at  a  villa  near  London,  eat  a  hearty  dinner  and 
a  supper  in  a  flow  of  spirits ;  complained  of  a  pain  in  his 
stomach,  which  lasted  but  a  little  while  before  he  died. 
What  a  sense  of  horror  if  his  sad  associates  had  any 
conscience !  He  has  died  rich,  and  left  =£500  a  piece  to 
those  undone  girls,  the  chief  of  his  fortune  to  his  sister, 
Lady  Valencia.1 

In  June  1780  all  London  was  distracted  by  the  doings 
of  Lord  George  Gordon,  which  culminated  in  the  'No 
Popery '  riots.  In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Port,  dated  June  8, 
Mrs.  Delany  says :  '  On  Tuesday  last  the  tumult  was  so 
desperate,  of  which  you  will  be  informed  in  the  papers, 
that  nobody  knew  how  it  might  end.  Lady  Weymouth 
was  so  terrified  for  the  Duchess  of  Portland,  as  a  disturbance 
was  expected  in  Priory  Gardens,  that  she  entreated  her  to 
lie  that  night  at  Lady  Stamford's,  which  she  did,  after 
spending  the  evening  with  me ;  and  yesterday  she  dined 
with  me,  and  being  assured  that  all  things  were  quiet  in 
Whitehall,  she  resolved  to  return  home  last  night.  Poor 
Lady  Weymouth  sent  all  her  children  yesterday  to  Baling, 
and  had  the  goodness  to  desire  me  to  go  with  them,  and 
carry  Georgina  with  me,  but  I  could  not  do  that,  as  the 

235 


MRS.  DELANY 

Duchess  was  determined  to  go  that  day  to  Bulstrode,  and 
she  insisted  on  my  coming  home  with  her,  and  bringing 
the  child  with  me,  as  some  houses  in  St.  Jameses  Place 
were  threatened.  .  .  .  Lady  Bute  is  gone  out  of  town, 
but  I  fear  there  will  be  as  little  mercy  shown  to  his 
house  as  to  Lord  Mansfield's1  in  Bloomsbury  Square. 
Thank  God,  he  and  his  family  are  safe  and  well,  but  his 
house  with  everything  in  it  is  burnt  to  the  ground !  And 
Kenwood  would  have  met  the  same  fate  had  not  the 
militia  saved  it  yesterday.' 

In  November  the  King  sent  Mrs.  Delany,  who  was  then 
at  Bulstrode,  a  special  message  to  the  effect  that  he  hoped 
she  would  be  at  Gerrard's  Cross  the  following  Wednesday 
to  see  the  stag  turned  out.  Such  a  royal  invitation  was  not 
lightly  to  be  disregarded,  and  so  at  the  age  of  eighty-one 
Mrs.  Delany  went  out  hunting  for  the  last  time.  For  her 
little  niece's  amusement  she  dictated  the  following  account 
of  her  adventures  to  her  waiting- woman,  Mrs.  Rea : — 

'On  Wednesday  morning,  a  quarter  before  ten,  the 
Duchess  of  Portland  stepped  into  her  chaise,  and  we 
went  to  Gerard  Cross,  about  the  middle  of  the  Common, 
by  the  appointment  and  command  of  the  King,  who  came 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards,  with  the  Prince 
of  Wales  and  a  large  retinue.  His  Majesty  came  up 
directly  to  the  Duchess's  carriage,  most  gracious  and 
delighted  to  see  the  Duchess  out  so  early.  .  .  .  The 
King  himself  ordered  the  spot  where  the  Duchess's  chaise 
should  stand  to  see  the  stag  turned  out.  At  the  King's 
command  the  stag  was  set  at  liberty,  and  the  poor 
trembling  creature  bounded  over  the  plain  in  hopes  of 
escaping  from  his  pursuers,  but  the  dogs  and  hunters 
were  soon  after  him,  and  all  out  of  sight.  The  Duchess 

1  Lord  Chief  Justice. 
236 


MRS.  DELANY 

returned  home  in  order  to  be  able  to  receive  the  Queen, 
who  immediately  followed,  before  we  could  pull  off  our 
cloaks !  We  received  Her  Majesty  on  the  doorstep, 
but  she  is  so  gracious  that  she  makes  everything  per- 
fectly easy.  .  .  .  The  Princess  Royal  did  me  the  honour 
to  ask  after  you  in  a  very  obliging  way,  if  you  came 
to  town  this  winter,  what  books  you  read.  I  said  you 
loved  reading  better  than  work,  but  that  you  worked 
when  your  other  lessons  were  over.  Her  Royal  High- 
ness asked  what  books  you  liked.  I  said  you  seemed  to 
like  history  and  travels  as  far  as  you  could  understand 
them,  and  the  Spectator  and  French  stories  adapted  to 
your  age ;  that  your  mama  was  very  attentive  to  you,  but 
her  indulgence  to  me  made  her  spare  you  to  me,  though 
I  was  afraid  I  should  not  be  able  to  attend  to  you  as 
much  as  she  did.  The  Princess,  who  is  extremely  polite, 
made  me  some  obliging  compliments;  and  added,  she 
hoped  I  should  be  able  to  attend  to  you  for  twenty 
years  to  come.  Princess  Elizabeth,  who  stood  near  me, 
said,  "  I  hope  so  too,  and  am  sure  so  does  the  King  and 
Queen.""  I  would  not  have  you  think  (though  I  am  very 
sensible  of  the  honours  done  me)  I  tell  you  this  out  of 
vanity,  for  I  feel  my  own  small  consequence,  but  I  tell 
you  to  show  you  how  such  manners  become  the  highest 
rank,  and  though  so  far  above  us,  they  are  not  in  those 
particulars  unsuited  to  our  imitation  ;  for  civility,  kindness, 
and  benevolence  (suitable  to  the  different  ranks  of  life) 
are  in  everybody's  power,  from  the  palace  to  the  cottage.' 
Apropos  of  this  last  day's  hunting,  Mrs.  Delany  related 
an  anecdote  of  her  first  run  with  the  hounds,  more  than 
sixty  years  before,  which  greatly  delighted  George  in. 
When  a  young  girl,  living  with  her  parents  in  Gloucester- 
shire, she  received  an  invitation  to  dinner  at  a  house  in 

237 


MRS.  DELANY 

the  neighbourhood  which  her  mother  allowed  her  to 
accept.  As  there  was  to  be  company,  she  was  very  smartly 
dressed;  and  the  road  being  too  bad  for  a  carriage,  she 
was  mounted  on  a  pillion,  behind  a  steady  old  servant. 
On  the  way  they  met  a  pack  of  hounds;  Miss  Granville 
was  enchanted,  the  mettle  of  the  horse  was  roused,  and 
old  John  was  prevailed  upon  to  join  in  the  chase.  The 
end  of  the  escapade  was  that  the  young  lady's  pink  lute- 
string slip  was  rent  in  many  places,  the  smart  shoes  were 
lost,  and  the  hat  and  streamers  blown  away.  She  kept 
her  host's  dinner  waiting;  and  on  her  return  home  in 
tattered  garments,  received  a  severe  scolding  from  Mrs. 
Granville,  insomuch  that  her  first  day's  hunting  cost  her 
many  penitential  tears. 

Among  other  favours  bestowed  upon  Mrs.  Delany  by 
the  Queen  at  this  time  were  a  lock  of  her  hair,  a  nomina- 
tion of  one  of  Mrs.  Port's  boys  to  the  Charterhouse,  and 
a  pocket-book  containing  the  following  note  : — 

'Without  appearing  imprudent  towards  Mrs.  Delany, 
and  indiscreet  towards  her  friends  (who  wish  to  preserve 
her,  as  her  excellent  qualities  so  well  deserve),  I  cannot 
have  the  pleasure  of  enjoying  her  company  this  winter, 
which  our  amiable  friend  the  Duchess  of  Portland  has  so 
frequently  and  politely  indulged  me  with  during  the 
summer.  I  must  therefore  desire  that  Mrs.  Delany  will 
wear  this  little  pocket-book  in  order  to  remember,  at  times 
when  no  dearer  persons  are  present,  a  very  sincere  well- 
wisher,  friend,  and  affectionate  Queen, 

*  CHARLOTTE.' 

The  Queen  having  expressed  a  wish  to  learn  to  spin, 
Mrs.  Delany  presented  her  with  a  spinning-wheel  as  a 
238 


MRS.  DELANY 

birthday  offering,  and  accompanied  it  with  the  subjoined 
verses  of  her  own  composition  : — 

'  Go,  happy  wheel  !    Amuse  her  leisure  hour, 

Whose  grace  and  affability  refined 
Add  lustre  to  her  dignity  and  power, 

And  fill  with  love  and  awe  the  grateful  mind/ 

In  1782  Mrs.  Delany  was  obliged,  by  reason  of  her 
failing  sight,  to  give  up  her  work  upon  the  Flora,  which 
now  contained  nearly  a  thousand  specimens,  many  of 
which  were  copies  of  rare  flowers  and  plants  that  had 
been  sent  her  from  Kew.  That  "she  had  not  lost  her 
former  keen  interest  in  art,  however,  is  proved  by  her 
kindness  to  Opie,  the  portrait-painter,  then  quite  a  young 
man,  whom  she  brought  into  the  notice  of  the  King  and 
Queen,  and  for  whom  she  obtained  many  commissions. 
It  was  Opie  who,  at  the  command  of  their  Majesties, 
painted  the  portrait  of  Mrs.  Delany,  which  hung  in 
their  bedroom  at  Windsor,  and  is  now  at  Hampton 
Court.1  Mrs.  Boscawen,  writing  in  September  1782,  says : 
'  Your  favoured  Opie  is  still  in  raptures  at  the  thought 
of  Bulstrode.  His  portrait  of  Lady  Jerningham  did  not 
quite  satisfy  me,  for  I  concluded  it  would  be  perfect,  and  her 
person,  hands,  posture,  spinning-wheel,  all  are  so,  but  the 
face  (or  rather,  the  countenance)  does  not  quite  please  me.1" 

Miss  Burney's  Cecilia  was  published  in  1782,  and  MrsK 
Chapone  writes  a  warm  commendation  of  the  book  to  her 
ancient  friend.  It  was  not  until  January  1783,  however, 
that  Miss  Burney  was  introduced  to  Mrs.  Delany,  and  we 
read  in  her  diary  an  account,  probably  more  picturesque 
than  accurate,  of  what  took  place  on  the  occasion  of  their 
first  meeting.  Miss  Burney  went  to  St.  James's  Place  with 

1  A  replica  of  this  portrait  was  bequeathed  by  Lady  Llanover  to  the 
National  Portrait  Gallery. 

239 


MRS.  DELANY 

Mrs.  Chapone.  '  Mrs.  Delany,1  she  says,  *  was  alone  in  her 
drawing-room,  which  is  entirely  hung  round  with  pictures 
of  her  own  painting,  and  ornaments  of  her  own  designing. 
She  is  still  tall,  though  some  of  her  height  may  be  lost ; 
not  much,  however,  for  she  is  remarkably  upright.  She 
has  no  remains  of  beauty  in  feature,  but  in  countenance  I 
never  but  once  saw  more,  and  that  was  in  my  own  sweet 
maternal  grandmother.  Benevolence,  softness,  piety,  are 
all  resident  in  her  face.1 

The  guest  was  shown  the  pictures  and  the  famous  Flora, 
and  gratified  by  allusions  to  some  of  the  characters  in  her 
books.  At  seven  o'clock  the  Duchess  of  Portland  arrived. 
'She  is  not  near  so  old  as  Mrs.  Delany ,'  continues  Miss 
Burney,  '  nor  to  me  is  her  face  by  any  means  so  pleasing ; 
but  yet  there  is  sweetness  and  dignity  and  intelligence  in 
it.  Mrs.  Delany  received  her  with  the  same  respectful 
ceremony  as  if  it  was  her  first  visit,  though  she  regularly 
goes  to  her  every  evening.  In  the  course  of  conversation 
the  Duchess  asked  Miss  Burney 's  opinion  of  Mrs.  Siddons ; 
and  on  her  expressing  her  admiration  of  the  actress, 
observed,  "  If  Miss  Burney  approves  her,  no  approbation 
can  do  her  so  much  credit;  for  no  one  can  so  perfectly 
judge  of  character,  or  of  human  nature." 

'"Ah,  ma'am,"  cried  Mrs.  Delany  archly,  "and  does 
your  Grace  remember  protesting  that  you  would  never 
read  Cecilia  ?  " 

' "  Yes,"  said  she,  laughing,  "  I  declared  that  five  volumes 
could  never  be  attacked,  but  since  I  began  I  have  read  it 
three  times." 

' "  Oh,  terrible ! "  cried  I,  "  to  make  them  out  fifteen." 

' "  The  reason,"  continued  she, "  I  held  out  so  long  against 
reading  them  was  remembering  the  cry  there  was  in 
favour  of  Clarissa  and  Sir  Charles  Grandison  when  they 
240 


MRS.  DELANY 

came  out,  and  those  I  never  could  read.  I  was  teased 
into  trying  both  of  them,  but  I  was  disgusted  with  their 
tediousness,  and  could  not  read  eleven  letters  with  all 
the  effort  I  could  make." 

' " But  if  your  grace  had  gone  on  with  Clarissa"  said 
Mrs.  Chapone,  "the  latter  part  must  have  affected  you 
and  charmed  you." 

' "  Oh,  I  hate  anything  so  dismal !  Everybody  that  did 
read  it  had  melancholy  faces  for  a  week.  Cecilia  is  as 
pathetic  as  I  can  bear,  and  more  sometimes ;  yet  in  the 
midst  of  the  sorrow  there  is  a  spirit  in  the  writing,  a  fire 
in  the  whole  composition  that  keep  off  that  heavy  depres- 
sion given  by  Richardson.  Cry,  to  be  sure  we  did.  Oh, 
Mrs.  Delany,  shall  you  ever  forget  how  we  cried?  Bqt 
then  we  had  so  much  laughter  to  make  us  amends,  we 
were  never  left  to  sink  under  our  concern." 

* "  For  my  part,"  said  Mrs.  Chapone,  "  when  I  first  read 
it  I  did  not  cry  at  all ;  I  was  in  an  agitation  that  half 
killed  me,  that  shook  all  my  nerves,  and  made  me  unable 
to  sleep  at  nights  from  the  suspense  I  was  in." 

' "  I  only  wish,"  said  the  duchess,  "  Miss  Burney  could 
have  been  in  some  corner  when  Lord  Weymouth,  the 
Bishop  of  Exeter,  Mr.  Lightfoot,  Mrs.  Delany,  and  I 
were  all  discussing  the  point  of  the  name.  Nothing 
could  have  been  debated  more  warmly,  but  what  cooled  us 
a  little  at  last  was  Mr.  Lightfoot's  thinking  we  were  going 
to  quarrel,  and  while  Mrs.  Delany  and  I  were  disputing 
about  Mrs.  Delville,  he  very  gravely  said, '  Why,  ladies,  this 
is  only  a  matter  of  imagination.  Don't  be  so  earnest.' " 

* "  Ah,  ma'am,"  said  Mrs.  Delany,  "  how  hard  your  grace 
was  upon  Mrs.  Delville,  so  elegant,  so  sensible,  so  judicious, 
so  charming  a  woman." 

' "  Oh,  I  hate  her,"  cried  the  duchess,  "  resisting  that 
tt  241 


MRS.  DELANY 

sweet  Cecilia;  coaxing  her,  too,  all  the  time  with  such 
hypocritical  flattery." 

' "  I  shall  never  forget,"  said  Mrs.  Delany, "  your  grace's 
earnestness  when  we  came  to  that  part  where  Mrs.  Delville 
bursts  a  blood-vessel.  Down  dropped  the  book,  and  just 
with  the  same  energy  as  if  your  grace  had  heard  some 
real  and  important  news  you  called  out,  '  I  'm  glad  of  it 
with  all  my  heart.' " 

* "  What  disputes,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Chapone,  "  there  are 
about  Briggs.  I  was  in  a  room  some  time  ago  where 
somebody  said  there  could  be  no  such  character,  and  a 
poor  little  city  man  who  was  there  started  up  and  said, 
'  But  there  is,  though,  for  I  'se  one  myself.' " 

* "  The  Han-els  —  oh,  then  the  Harrels  ! "  cried  Mrs. 
Delany. 

' "  If  you  speak  of  the  Han-els,  and  of  the  morality  of 
the  book,"  said  the  duchess,  with  a  solemn  sort  of  voice, 
"we  shall,  indeed,  never  give  Miss  Burney  her  due — so 
striking,  so  pure,  so  genuine,  so  instructive." 

' "  Yes,"  cried  Mrs.  Chapone,  "  let  us  complain  how  we 
will  of  the  torture  she  has  given  our  nerves,  we  must  all 
join  in  saying  she  has  bettered  us  by  every  line." 

' "  No  book,"  said  Mrs.  Delany,  "  ever  was  so  useful  as 
this,  because  none  other  that  is  so  good  was  ever  so  much 
read." 

'I  think  I  need  now  write  no  more,'  continues  Miss 
Burney — 'I  could,  indeed,  hear  no  more — for  this  last 
so  serious  praise  from  characters  so  respectable,  so  moral, 
and  so  aged  quite  affected  me ;  and  though  I  had  wished 
a  thousand  times  during  this  discourse  to  run  out  of  the 
room,  when  they  finally  gave  this  solemn  sanction  to  the 
meaning  and  intention  of  my  writing,  I  found  it  not  with- 
out difficulty  that  I  could  keep  the  tears  out  of  my  eyes.' 
242 


MRS.  DELANY 

In  September  1783,  Mrs.  Boscawen  describes  .some  of 
her  summer  wanderings  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Delany.  '  I 
have  seen  Lady  Weymouth  and  her  three  eldest  daughters. 
I  could  not  leave  Longleat  without  wishing  to  pay  my 
respects  to  its  noble  mistress ;  she  was  extremely  obliging. 
We  talked  of  Bulstrode,  you  may  be  sure,  and  she  told 
me  all  your  expeditions.  I  did  not  tell  Lady  Weymouth 
all  I  thought  of  Longleat,  lest  it  should  sound  like  flattery, 
but  to  me  it  appeared  the  very  finest  place  I  ever  saw  in 
my  life.  The  sun  shone  perfectly  bright,  the  water  was 
all  silver,  the  lights  and  shades  of  the  fine  trees  were 
beautiful — in  short,  the  whole  so  entirely  excited  my 
admiration,  the  superb,  majestic  structure  being  unique, 
that  I  dare  say  I  shall  never  see  anything  again  that  I 
like  so  well.  We  spent  all  yesterday  at  Mr.  Hoare's,  and 
were  lucky  in  a  fine  day  to  sit  and  tarry  at  the  different 
stations.  There  is  an  immense  high  tower  built  at  the 
extremity  of  his  plantation,  called  Alfred's  Tower,  which 
overlooked  the  whole  country.  There  is  a  convent  in  the 
woods  that  you  would  like  very  well ;  it  has  fine  painted 
glass  in  the  windows,  and  a  picture  which  belonged  to 
one  of  the  altars  of  Glastonbury  Abbey,  which  shuts  up 
with  doors ;  but  perhaps  after  all  it  is  only  an  imitation, 
for  I  am  easily  taken  in  on  these  occasions,  and  believe 
implicitly  the  tales  of  my  cicerones.  To-day  we  have  been 
to  see  Mr.  Beckford's  Fonthill,  where  you  would  have 
been  provoked  to  see  fine  Titians  pell-mell  with  daubings 
of  Capali:  the  mixture  of  good  and  bad  pictures  was 
hideous.  Thank  God  we  go  home  to-morrow,  for  my 
eyes  are  soon  satisfied  with  seeing,  and  I  require  more 
tranquillity  than  can  be  had  in  a  wayfaring  life,  besides 
that  seeing  Longleat  first  I  was  satisfied,  and  persuaded 
that  nothing  I  saw  afterwards  would  please  me  so  well.' 

243 


MRS.  DELANY 

Mi's.  Delany  usually  kept  her  old  Dublin  friend,  Mrs. 
Frances  Hamilton,  well  posted  up  in  her  doings,  and 
more  especially  in  all  matters  connected  with  her  inter- 
course with  royalty.  In  a  letter  written  from  Bulstrode 
on  October  10th,  she  says,  'A  few  days  after  our  arrival 
here  the  duchess  and  I  were  sitting  in  the  long  gallery 
busy  with  our  different  employments,  when,  without  any 
ceremony,  his  Majesty  walked  up  to  our  table  unperceived 
and  unknown  till  he  came  close  to  us.  You  may  believe 
we  were  at  first  a  little  fluttered,  but  his  courteous  manner 
soon  made  him  a  welcome  guest.  He  came  to  inform  the 
duchess  of  the  queen's  perfect  recovery  from  her  lying-in, 
which  made  him  doubly  welcome.  .  .  .  Last  Thursday,  a 
little  before  twelve  o'clock,  word  was  brought  that  the 
royal  family  were  coming  up  the  park,  and  immediately 
afterwards  two  coaches  and  six,  with  the  king  on  horse- 
back, and  a  large  retinue  came  up  to  the  hall  door.  .  .  . 
They  were  in  the  drawing-room  before  I  was  sent  for, 
where  I  found  the  queen  very  busy  showing  a  very  elegant 
machine  to  the  duchess,  a  frame  for  weaving  fringe  of  a 
new  and  most  delicate  structure;  it  would  take  up  as 
much  paper  as  has  already  been  written  upon  to  describe 
it  minutely,  yet  it  is  of  such  simplicity  as  to  be  very  use- 
ful. You  will  easily  imagine  the  grateful  feeling  I  had 
when  the  queen  presented  it  to  me  to  make  up  some 
knotted  fringe  which  she  saw  me  about.  The  king  at  the 
same  time  said  that  he  must  contribute  something  to  my 
work,  and  presented  me  with  a  gold  knotting  shuttle  of 
most  exquisite  workmanship  and  taste ;  and  I  am  at  this 
time,  while  dictating,  knotting  white  silk  to  fringe  the 
bag  which  is  to  contain  it/ 

<3 


244 


CHAPTER    XVII 

(1783-1785) 

IN  the  winter  of  1783,  Miss  Hamilton,  one  of  the  ladies- 
in-waiting  to  the  queen,  and  niece  of  the  Sir  William 
Hamilton  who  married  Emma  Hiirt,  paid  a  long  visit  to 
Bulstrode,  and  gives  in  her  diary  an  interesting  account 
of  the  conversation  and  occupations  of  the  two  venerable 
ladies,  the  duchess  and  Mrs.  Delany.  On  December  5th 
she  writes  :  '  Went  to  dear  Mrs.  Delany  at  half-past  nine. 
She  told  me  how  extremely  happy  I  had  made  her  and  the 
duchess  by  my  consent  to  stay  till  they  went  to  town.  How 
truly  flattering  the  praise  of  this  most  venerable  and  amiable 
woman  !  At  two  o'clock  Mrs.  Delany  and  I  went  to  her 
room  to  eat  oysters.  We  went  to  dinner  about  half-past 
four,  and  when  we  came  out  of  the  dining-room  we  had  a 
hearty  laugh,  and  ran  a  race  !  After  tea  I  read  Evelina, 
which  I  finished,  and  at  ten  the  duchess  went  to  her  room  to 
finish  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Boscawen,  and  tell  her  we  had  gone 
through  Evelina,  the  book  that  she  had  desired  us  to  read."1 
This  entry  is  certainly  rather  mysterious  when  taken  in 
connection  with  the  enthusiasm  displayed  by  the  duchess 
and  her  friends  for  Miss  Burney's  work  during  the  interview 
that  had  taken  place  the  year  before.  Miss  Burney  had  a 
vivid  imagination,  but  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  she 
could  have  invented  the  whole  of  the  conversation  on  the 
subject  that  is  recorded  in  her  diary. 

245 


MRS.  DELANY 

Miss  Hamilton  continues:  'Mrs.  Delany  said  how 
cautious  young  women  should  be  what  society  they 
entered  into,  and  particularly  with  whom  they  appeared 
in  public.  Told  me  an  anecdote  of  herself  when  she  was 
young  and  first  married  to  Mr.  Pendarves ;  gave  me  an 
account  of  the  Hell  Fire  Club,  which  consisted  of  about  a 
dozen  persons  of  fashion  of  both  sexes,  some  of  the  females 
unmarried,  and  the  horrid  impieties  these  were  guilty  of : 
they  used  to  read  and  ridicule  the  Scriptures ;  and  their 
conversation  was  blasphemous  to  the  last  degree;  the 
character  of  one  of  the  members  of  this  club,  a  Mr.  Howe, 
and  an  account  of  his  death,  which  Dr.  Friend  gave  Mrs. 
Delany  the  day  he  died.  Mrs.  D.  was  dining  at  Somerset 
House  when  Dr.  Friend  came  in,  quite  overcome  with  the 
horrid  scene  he  had  j  ust  quitted ;  said  he  left  this  miser- 
able wretch  expiring,  uttering  the  most  horrid  impreca- 
tions, and,  though  denying  his  belief  in  anything  sacred, 
said  he  knew  he  should  burn  in  hell  for  ever !  .  .  . 

'The  conversation  turned  on  the  famous  Duchess  of 
Marlborough;  among  other  things,  that,  although  she 
appeared  affected  in  the  highest  degree  at  the  death  of 
her  grand-daughter,  the  DucKess  of  Bedford,  she  sent  the 
day  after  she  died  for  the  jewels  she  had  given  her,  saying 
she  had  only  lent  them.  The  answer  was  that  she  had  said 
she  would  never  demand  those  jewels  again,  except  she 
danced  at  Court.  Her  reply  was,  "  then  she  would  be — 
if  she  would  not  dance  at  Court."  She  behaved  in  the 
most  extravagant  manner,  her  grief,  notwithstanding,  most 
violent  in  its  appearance.  She  was  found  one  day  lying 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  and  a  lady  who  went  to  see 
her  had  like  to  have  fallen  over  her,  the  room  being 
dark.  The  duchess  said  she  was  praying,  and  that  she 
lay  thus  upon  the  ground,  being  too  wicked  to  kneel. 
246 


MRS.  DELANY 

When  her  son  died,  who  was  a  fine  promising  youth,  her 
grief  was  unbounded ;  her  vanity  was  wounded,  the  future 
hope  of  an  ambitious  mind  was  destroyed.  She  used,  by 
way  of  mortification,  to  dress  herself  like  a  beggar,  and  sit 
with  some  miserable  wretches  in  the  cloisters  at  West- 
minster Abbey.  She  used  to  say  she  was  very  certain  she 
should  go  to  heaven,  and,  as  her  ambition  went  even 
beyond  the  grave,  that  she  knew  she  should  have  one  of 
the  highest  seats. 

'  Many  other  anecdotes  were  told,  and  the  duchess 
showed  us  some  original  letters  written  to  her  grand- 
father, Mr.  Harley,  by  the  famous  Lord  Bolingbroke,  and 
the  Duchess  of  Marlborough.  Those  of  Lord  Boling- 
broke were  witty  and  impious,  and  full  of  the  most  flatter- 
ing encomiums.  Mrs.  Delany  said  she  remembered  Lord 
Bolingbroke's  person,  that  he  was  handsome,  had  a  fine 
address,  but  was  a  great  drinker,  and  swore  horribly.  She 
remembered  his  going  once  to  her  uncle,  Sir  John 
Stanley's,  at  Northend,  his  being  very  drunk,  and  going 
to  the  greenhouse,  where  he  threw  himself  on  a  couch. 
A  message  arrived  to  say  he  was  waited  for  at  the  council : 
he  roused  himself,  snatched  up  his  green  bag  of  papers, 
and  flew  to  business.  People  used  to  say  that  no  man 
was  ever  so  early  or  so  active  as  Lord  B.  when  he  was  in 
place.  The  truth  being  that  he  used  to  sit  up  drinking  all 
night,  and  not  having  been  in  bed,  he  would  put  a  wet 
napkin  on  his  forehead  and  eyes  to  cool  the  heat  and 
headache  occasioned  by  his  intemperance,  and  then  he 
appeared  and  attended  to  business  with  as  much  ease  as  if 
he  had  lived  the  most  temperate  life.  .  .  .' 

'  December  14. 

'  Went  to  Mrs.  Delany's  room  at  half-past  nine.     We 
talked  upon  religious  topics.     She  told  me  she  had  known 

247 


MRS.  DELANY 

the  two  Mr.  Wesleys  (the  Methodist  preachers) ;  she  knew 
them  when  they  were  young  men,  they  lived  near  her 
sister  when  they  were  students  at  Oxford.  They  were  of 
a  serious  turn,  and  associated  with  such  as  were  so.  These 
brothers  joined  some  other  young  men  at  Oxford,  and 
used  to  meet  of  a  Sunday  evening  and  read  the  Scriptures, 
and  find  out  objects  of  charity  to  relieve.  This  was  a 
happy  beginning,  but  the  vanity  of  being  singular,  and 
growing  enthusiasts,  made  them  endeavour  to  gain 
proselytes,  and  adopt  that  system  of  religious  doctrine 
that  many  reasonable  persons  thought  pernicious.  .  .  . 

'  After  tea  the  duchess  read  many  interesting  anecdotes 
out  of  her  MS.  book.  The  Duchess  of  Marlborough  (the 
famous)  said  she  never  had  a  present  of  a  jewel  from  Queen 
Anne;  and  'tis  notorious  that  when  news  came  of  the  victory 
of  Blenheim  the  queen  gave  her  a  picture  of  the  Duke  of 
Marlborough,  covered  with  a  flat  diamond  with  brilliant 
edges,  which  cost  eight  thousand  pounds :  it  is  now  in  the 
possession  of  the  Duke  of  Montagifs  daughter,  the  present 
Duchess  of  Buccleuch.  When  the  Duchess  of  Marlborough 
was  in  disgrace  she  went  to  Holland ;  before  she  left  she 
made  presents  to  her  friends,  and,  among  other  things,  she 
gave  a  Mrs.  Higgin  a  picture  of  Queen  Anne  which  the 
queen  had  given  her.  It  had  been  set  round  with  jewels ; 
those  she  took  care  to  take  from  it.  Mrs.  Higgin,  knowing 
the  duchess  gave  her  this  because  she  had  no  value  for  it, 
and  not  out  of  any  mark  of  regard,  and  sensibly  conscious 
she  was  not  worthy  of  the  honour  of  having  it  in  her 
possession,  offered  it  to  Lord  Oxford,  who  (in  a  genteel 
way)  gave  her  a  hundred  guineas  for  it,  and  it  is  now  at 
Welbeck.  The  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Marlborough  had 
upwards  of  90,000  per  annum  in  places,  besides  Blenheim 
and  all  their  family  and  children  in  places.  They  would 
248 


MRS.  DELANY 

not  even  pay  the  taxes  of  the  house  granted  them  at 
Whitehall,  and  when  the  duke  made  a  campaign  he  was 
always  furnished  with  every  material  of  linen,  etc.,  at 
the  queen's  expense.  The  Prince  Eugene  once,  when  he 
received  a  letter  from  the  duke,  gave  it  to  another  to  read 
to  him,  as  it  was  a  difficult  hand  to  read ;  and  the  person 
said:  "The  duke  puts  no  tittles  upon  the  <iV"  "Oh," 
said  the  prince,  "  it  saves  his  grace's  ink." ' 

There  are  several  tantalising  entries  in  the  diary  to  the 
effect  that  * Mrs.  Delany  told  me  many  particulars  relating 
to  Swift,  Mrs.  Johnstone,  Vanessa,  etc.,1  or  '  the  duchess  told 
me  some  remarkable  anecdotes  of  Pope,  Young,  Voltaire, 
etc.,'  and  one  wishes  that  the  diarist  had  been  imbued  with 
more  of  the  spirit  of  a  Boswell.  After  her  return  to  town 
Miss  Hamilton  became  a  frequent  visitor  at  Mrs.  Delany's 
house,  and  on  one  occasion  met  Miss  Burney  and  Mrs. 
Carter,  when,  she  relates,  those  learned  ladies  discussed 
Rousseau's  Eloise,  and  Mrs.  Carter  declared  that  Rousseau 
was  a  far  more  dangerous  writer  than  Voltaire.  It  was 
through  the  negotiations  of  Miss  Hamilton  that  the 
Duchess  of  Portland  bought  the  famous  Barberini  vase 
from  Sir  William  Hamilton. 

In  May  1784  began  the  first  series  of  performances  in 
commemoration  of  Handel,  held  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
and  Mrs.  Delany  was  able  to  be  present  at  four  of  the 
concerts.  She  still  seems  to  have  kept  up  her  interest  in 
the  art  and  literature  of  the  day,  for  we  find  her  writing 
to  Miss  Hamilton:  'I  hear  that  the  School  for  Scandal 
is  to  be  got  in  Ireland ;  I  beg  you  will  procure  me  two 
copies.  It  has  not  yet  been  published  in  England.'  In 
the  same  letter  she  gives  the  following  account  of  a  visit 
to  the  queen's  house  to  hear  Mrs.  Siddons  read  The 
Provoked  Huxband :  '  I  obeyed  the  royal  summons,  and 

249 


MRS.  DELANY 

was  much  entertained.  She  (Mrs.  Siddons)  fully  answered 
my  expectations,  and  her  person  and  manners  are  per- 
fectly agreeable.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Siddons  read  standing,  and  had 
a  desk  with  candles  before  her;  she  behaved  with  great 
propriety,  and  read  two  acts  of  The  Provoked  Husband, 
which  was  abridged  by  leaving  out  Sir  Francis  and  Lady 
Wronghead's  parts.  But  she  introduced  John  Moody 's 
account  of  the  journey,  and  read  it  admirably.  The 
part  of  Lord  and  Lady  Townley's  reconciliation  she 
worked  up  finely,  and  made  it  very  affecting.  She  also  read 
Queen  Katherine's  last  speech  in  King  Henry  VIII.  She 
was  allowed  three  pauses  to  go  into  the  next  room  to 
refresh  herself  for  half  an  hour  each  time.  After  she  was 
dismissed  their  Majesties  detained  the  company  for  some 
time  to  talk  over  what  had  passed,  which  was  not  the  least 
agreeable  part  of  the  entertainment.1 

In  July  Mrs.  Delany  appears  to  have  been  in  town  and 
indisposed,  for  the  Duchess  of  Portland  writes  to  her 
from  Margate,  '  I  am  truly  grieved  to  hear  you  have  been 
ill,  but  depend  on  you  assuring  me  you  are  much  better. 
I  think  you  were  in  the  right  to  go  to  town,  but  is  not 
the  smell  of  paint  disagreeable  to  you  ?  And  why  would 
you  not  go  to  Whitehall,  which  you  know,  my  dearest 
friend,  is  at  your  disposal  ?  .  .  .  Mr.  Swanison  is  a  good 
acquisition  ;  he  shot  three  or  four  birds  for  me  yesterday, 
and  is  gone  out  to-day  trawling,  or  I  should  have  gone  to 
see  his  collection.  And  he  has  introduced  a  friseur^  not 
for  the  purpose  of  curling  my  hair,  but  of  stuffing  birds. 
I  have  a  charming  horned  owl  sitting  by  me  that  I  have 
purchased  of  him.1 

In  the  autumn  Mrs.  Delany  procured,  at  the  king^s 
request,  a  catalogue  of  Mr.  Granville's  valuable  collection 
of  HandeFs  music.     The  catalogue  was  returned  with  a 
250 


MRS.  DELANY 

note  from  George  in.  in  his  own  handwriting:  'The  king 
is  much  pleased  with  the  very  correct  manner  in  which 
Mrs.  Delany  has  obligingly  executed  the  commission  of 
obtaining  an  exact  catalogue  of  Mr.  Granville's  collection 
of  Mr.  Handel's  music,  and  desires  she  will  forward  it  to 
Dr.  Burney ;  at  the  same  time,  as  Mrs.  Delany  has  com- 
municated Mr.  Granville's  willingness  of  letting  the  king 
see  those  volumes  that  are  not  in  the  list  of  his  original 
collection,  he  is  desired  at  any  convenient  opportunity  to 
let  the  following  ones  be  sent  to  town,  and  great  care 
shall  be  taken  that  they  shall  be  without  damage  re- 
turned.' Here  follows  a  list  of  half-a-dozen  volumes. 

In  February  the  king  returned  some  of  the  volumes 
that  had  been  lent,  and  in  another  autograph  letter 
desires  that  Mrs.  Delany  will  express  everything  that  is 
proper  to  her  nephew  for  communications  that  have  been 
so  agreeable.  'The  king  hopes  when  the  spring  is  far 
enough  advanced  that  he  may  have  the  pleasure  of  having 
that  song  performed  at  the  queen's  house  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  Mrs.  Delany,  not  forgetting  to  have  it  introduced 
by  the  overture  to  "  Radamistus." — GEORGE  R.' 

In  July  1785,  the  Dowager-Duchess  of  Portland  died 
at  Bulstrode  after  only  a  few  days'  illness.  Horace  Wai- 
pole,  writing  to  Mrs.  Dickenson,  n6e  Hamilton,  on  July 
19th,  says,  'By  a  postscript  in  a  letter  I  have  just  received 
from  Mr.  Keate,  he  tells  me  that  the  Duchess  of  Portland 
is  dead !  I  did  hear  at  Ditton  on  Sunday  that  she  had 
been  thought  dead,  but  was  much  better — still,  as  it 
comes  from  Mr.  Kcate,  and  you  was  so  much  alarmed 
when  I  saw  you  (and,  indeed,  as  I  thought  her  so  much 
altered),  I  fear  it  is  but  too  true.  You  will  forgive  me, 
therefore,  for  troubling  you  with  inquiring  about  poor  Mrs. 
Delany  !  It  would  be  to  no  purpose  to  send  to  her  house.' 

251 


MRS.  DELANY 

On  July  24th  Mrs.  Sandford,  formerly  Sally  Chapone, 
wrote  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  *  Mrs.  Delany  had  been  with  the 
Duchess  of  Portland  about  twelve  days  at  Bulstrode  when 
the  sad  event  of  her  grace's  death  happened.  The  next 
day  Mrs.  Delany  came  to  town,  and  though .  in  great 
affliction,  I  am  happy  to  add  is  in  good  health,  which  not 
failing  her,  and  her  having  so  many  kind  friends  about 
her,  we  flatter  ourselves  is  not  likely  to  do  so.  As  her 
affliction  is  so  perfectly  calm  and  rational  as  to  allow  her 
to  accept  the  unwearied  attentions  they  offer  her,  Mrs. 
Delany  has  much  consolation  from  the  cordial  civilities 
and  kindnesses  she  has  received  from  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  Portland.  The  duke's  own  expression  has 
been  that  "  he  should  ever  see  his  mother  in  Mrs.  Delany," 
and  should  always  think  himself  fulfilling  his  late  mother's 
wishes  when  he  obeys  her  commands,  or  contributes  to 
her  satisfaction.  The  king  and  queen  have  been  as  con- 
stant and  regular  in  their  solicitous  inquiries  after  Mrs. 
Delany  since  the  duchess's  death  as  they  were  after  the 
excellent  friends  during  her  grace's  late  illness,  which  was 
of  a  complicated  kind.  But  the  immediate  cause  of  her 
death  was  a  bilious  complaint  which  culminated  in  a 
mortification.  .  .  .  We  understand  the  duchess's  remains 
are  to  be  interred  on  Friday  or  Saturday  next  at  West- 
minster Abbey,  where  the  late  duke  is  buried,  as  well  as 
all  the  Harley  family.' 

The  duchess's  will,  in  which  she  left  her  old  friend 
nothing  more  substantial  than  two  or  three  pictures  and 
snuff-boxes,  seems  to  have  caused  some  surprise  to  out- 
siders, though  none  to  Mrs.  Delany  herself,  who  had 
repeatedly  urged  the  duchess,  when  the  question  of  a 
legacy  was  discussed  between  them,  not  to  think  of  leav- 
ing her  any  money,  more  especially  as  Lord  Edward 
252 


MRS.  DELANY 

Bentinck  and  Lord  Weymouth  were  terribly  in  debt,  and 
had  even  reminded  her  that,  however  great  her  wealth, 
she  had  in  her  own  family  legitimate  claims  for  its  entire 
and  exclusive  appropriation.  The  only  change  in  Mrs. 
Delany's  circumstances  that  was  caused  by  her  friend's 
death  was  the  loss  of  the  summer  retreat  at  Bulstrode, 
which  she  had  enjoyed  for  so  many  years.  This,  however, 
'  was  speedily  made  good  by  the  king,  who  presented  her 
with  a  house  at  Windsor,  and  desired  that  she  would 
always  move  thither  when  the  Court  moved  from  town. 
At  the  same  time,  he  bestowed  upon  her  an  allowance 
of  three  hundred  a  year,  which  good  Queen  Charlotte 
used  to  bring  half-yearly  in  a  pocket-book,  in  order  that 
it  might  not  be  docked  by  the  tax-collector. 

Mrs.  Walsingham,  writing  to  Mrs.  Delany  about  this 
time,  says,  '  I  think  myself  extremely  obliged  to  you  for 
desiring  Mrs.  Boscawen  to  communicate  to  me  the  very 
delicate,  noble,  and  friendly  manner  in  which  their 
Majesties  have  expressed  the  sense  they  entertain  of  your 
merits,  and  the  feelings  they  have  for  the  very  great  loss 
you  have  sustained.  I  honour  and  admire  them  beyond 
what  words  can  speak ;  and  really  I  could  not  read  the 
account  without  a  sort  of  shivering  and  tears  coming  into 
my  eyes,  that  prove  how  we  are  penetrated,  even  to  our 
mental  parts,  by  acts  of  generosity  and  kindness.  I  felt 
much  anxiety,  till  I  came  to  the  conclusion,  and  found 
you  had  determined  to  take  the  house,  and,  in  return  for 
her  Majesty's  attention,  to  give  her  one  of  the  greatest 
and  rarest  of  all  pleasures,  the  having  a  friend  for  a 
neighbour.  Such  instances  of  friendship  are  rare  in  their 
Majesties1  exalted  rank ;  and  I  congratulate  them  on 
having  felt  a  pleasure  so  few  of  royal  race  have  ever 
known.  To  you  it  cannot  but  have  given  pleasure, 

253 


MRS.  DELANY 

though  you  were  so  deeply  plunged  in  sorrow,  and  these 
unexpected  pleasing  circumstances  that  sometimes  break 
out  like  rays  of  sunshine  on  our  most  clouded,  unhappy 
days,  put  me  in  mind  of  an  admirable  saying  of  Lord 
Bacon's,  that  "  man's  necessity  is  God's  opportunity." ' 

Evidently  no  time  had  been  lost  in  presenting  the 
gracious  gift,  for  the  duchess  only  died  on  July  17th,  and 
on  August  19th  Miss  Port,  who  now  lived  almost  entirely 
with  her  great-aunt,  writes  to  her  mother,  '  Though  the 
king  is  overseer  (which  of  course  must  hurry  the  work- 
men), we  find  it  will  be  three  weeks  before  the  house  at 
Windsor  will  be  ready,  and  three  weeks  longer  in  London 
at  this  time  of  year  would  be  bad  for  A.  D.'s  health.  This 
the  queen  has  considered,  for  which  reason  her  Majesty 
kindly  sent  Miss  Planta  to  say  that  till  the  house  was  fit 
for  our  reception,  she  hoped  my  aunt  would  be  in  an 
apartment  at  Windsor;  and  on  my  A.  D.'s  introducing 
me  to  Miss  Planta,  she  said  that  the  queen  named  that 
young  lady  particularly,  and  her  Majesty  expects  me  too."1 

During  the  month  of  August,  Mrs.  Delany  had  a  sharp 
attack  of  illness,  and  it  was  just  after  her  recovery  that 
Fanny  Burney,  who,  as  we  have  seen,  had  been  introduced 
by  Mrs.  Chapone  about  two  years  before,  was  invited  to 
stay  in  St.  James's  Place,  and  made  a  very  favourable  im- 
pression. Writing  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  Mrs.  Delany  says, 
'  I  have  had  with  me,  ever  since  my  nephews  were  obliged 
to  leave  me,  Miss  Burney,  the  author  of  Evelina  and 
Cecilia,  which,  excellent  as  they  are,  are  her  meanest 
praise.  Her  admirable  understanding,  tender  affection, 
and  sweetness  of  manners,  make  her  invaluable  to  those 
who  have  the  happiness  to  know  her.  .  .  . 

'  I  employ  my  secretary  just  now  to  add  some  new  proofs 
I  have  received  of  their  Majesties'  goodness  towards  me. 
254 


MRS.  DELANY 

Astley  (my  servant)  I  sent  to  Windsor  last  Thursday,  to 
see  what  conveniences  there  might  be  wanting  in  the 
house  that  their  Majesties  have  been  so  gracious  as  to 
give  me ;  when  there,  she  received  the  king's  command 
that  I  was  only  to  bring  myself  and  niece,  clothes  and 
attendants,  as  stores  of  every  kind  would  be  laid  in  for 
me.1 

On  September  3rd,  Queen  Charlotte  wrote :  '  My  dear 
Mrs.  Delany  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  I  am  charged  by 
the  king  to  summon  her  to  her  new  abode  at  Windsor  for 
Tuesday  next,  when  she  will  find  all  the  most  essential 
parts  of  the  house  ready,  excepting  some  little  trifles  that 
it  will  be  better  for  Mrs.  Delany  to  direct  herself  in 
person  or  by  her  little  deputy,  Miss  Port.  I  need  not, 
I  hope,  add  that  I  shall  be  extremely  glad  and  happy  to 
see  so  amiable  an  inhabitant  in  this  our  sweet  retreat,  and 
wish  very  sincerely  that  our  dear  Mrs.  Delany  may  enjoy 
every  blessing  among  us  that  her  merits  deserve,  and  that 
we  may  long  enjoy  her  amiable  company.  Amen.  These 
are  the  true  sentiments  of  my  dear  Mrs.  Delany's  very 
affectionate  queen,  CHARLOTTE.' 

Mrs.  Delany  wrote  the  following  account  of  her  arrival 
at  Windsor  to  her  friend  Mrs.  Hamilton  :  '  I  arrived  here 
about  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  and  found  his  Majesty 
in  the  house  ready  to  receive  me.  I  threw  myself  at  his 
feet,  indeed  unable  to  utter  a  word ;  he  raised  and  saluted 
me,  and  said  he  meant  not  to  stay  longer  than  to  desire 
I  would  order  everything  that  could  make  the  house  com- 
fortable and  agreeable  to  me,  and  then  retired.  Truly, 
I  found  nothing  wanting,  as  it  is  as  pleasant  and  com- 
modious as  I  could  wish  it  to  be,  with  a  very  pretty 
garden,  which  joins  that  of  the  Queen's  Lodge.  The 
next  morning  her  Majesty  sent  one  of  her  ladies  to  know 

255 


MRS.  DELANY 

how  I  had  rested,  and  how  I  was  in  health,  and  whether 
her  coming  would  not  be  troublesome.  I  was  lame,  and 
therefore  could  not  go  down  to  the  door  as  I  ought  to 
have  done,  but  her  Majesty  came  upstairs.  Our  meeting 
was  mutually  affecting ;  she  well  knew  the  value  of  what 
I  had  lost,  and  it  was  some  time  after  we  were  seated 
before  either  of  us  could  speak.  She  repeated  in  the 
strongest  terms  her  wish  and  the  king's,  that  I  should  be 
as  easy  and  happy  as  they  could  possibly  make  me ;  that 
they  waived  all  ceremony,  and  desired  to  come  to  me  as 
friends !  The  queen  also  delivered  me  a  paper  from  the 
king :  it  contained  the  first  quarter  of  £300  per  annum, 
which  his  majesty  allows  me  out  of  his  privy  purse.  Their 
majesties  have  drunk  tea  with  me  five  times,  and  the 
princesses  three.  They  generally  stay  two  hours  or  longer. 
In  short,  I  have  either  seen  them  or  heard  of  them  every 
day,  but  I  have  not  yet  been  at  the  Queen's  Lodge,  though 
they  have  expressed  impatience  for  me  to  come,  as  I  have 
still  so  sad  a  drawback  on  my  spirits  that  I  must  decline 
that  honour  till  I  am  better  able  to  enjoy  it,  and  they 
have  the  goodness  not  to  press  me.  Their  visits  here  are 
paid  in  the  most  quiet,  private  manner,  like  those  of  the 
most  consoling,  disinterested  friends ;  so  that  I  may  truly 
say  they  are  a  royal  cordial,  and  I  see  very  few  people 
besides.  I  have  been  three  times  in  the  king's  private 
chapel  at  early  prayers,  where  the  royal  family  constantly 
attend,  and  they  walk  home  to  breakfast  afterwards, 
whilst  I  am  conveyed  in  a  very  elegant  chair  which  the 
king  has  made  me  a  present  of  for  that  purpose.' 

Lady  Llanover,  in  a  private  note,  observes  that  'the 

letters  to  Mrs.  Hamilton  from  Mrs.  Delany  were  chiefly 

dictated  to  her  maid  as  a  journal  of  Court  news  to  amuse 

Mrs.  Hamilton,  which  must  be  taken  into  consideration 

256 


MRS.  DELANY 

to  account  for  the  stiffness  of  style  and  absence  of  all  but 
praise  in  the  accounts  given.  But  when  this  is  considered, 
together  with  Mrs.  Delany  "s  true  and  just  feelings  of 
affection  for  the  treatment  she  experienced  from  the  royal 
family,  together  also  with  the  phraseology  of  the 
times  of  those  about  Court,  these  letters  will  not  be 
considered  as  overstrained  panegyrics,  as  they  otherwise 
might.1 

Mr.  Frederick  Montagu,  writing  to  Mrs.  Delany  about 
the  same  time,  says,  *  Your  royal  friends  have  combined 
private  regard  and  affection  with  princely  munificence — 
and  I  will  say,  though  you  are  the  grand-daughter  of  Sir 
Bevil  Granville,  that  none  of  the  Stuarts,  male  or  female, 
would  have  done  so  well ! ' 

In  October  of  this  year  it  was  decided  that  John 
Dewes  of  Calwich  should  take  the  name  of  Granville. 
Mrs.  Delany  writes  to  her  nephew,  'I  have  always 
thought  it  was  laudable  and  proper  that  the  names  of 
respectable  families  should  be  kept  up,  and  not  allowed 
to  sink  into  oblivion ;  especially  by  a  descendant  of  so 
worthy  and  great  a  man  as  Sir  Bevil  Granville,  who  died 
for  his  king  and  country.  I  some  time  ago  mentioned 
this ;  you  apprehended  it  was  not  particularly  my  brother's 
desire  you  should  take  his  name,  but  such  reasons  have 
started  since  as  I  am  sure  would  have  convinced  my 
brother  Granville  that  it  ought  to  be  done.  These  urgent 
reasons,  which  I  cannot  explain  in  a  letter,  and  must  be 
quite  between  ourselves,  are  relating  to  Earl  Temple's 
family,  and  though  it  may  be  a  matter  of  indifference  to 
yourself  it  may  prove  of  consequence  to  your  descendants. 
Upon  the  birth  of  your  son  I  thought  it  more  incumbent 
on  you  to  take  it  into  consideration.  .  .  ."* 

Mrs.  Delany's  reasons  evidently  had  weight  with  her 
R  257 


MRS.  DELANY 

nephew,  for  on  October  29th  Court  Dewes  writes  from 
Windsor  to  his  brother  John  : 

4  DEAR  BROTHER  GRANVILLE, — For,  after  having  received 
his  majesty's  commands  to  call  you  so  for  the  future,  I 
don't  know  whether  it  would  not  be  a  misdemeanour  in 
me  to  do  otherwise !  To  be  serious,  I  think  from  the  time 
you  receive  this  letter  you  may  assume  the  name.  The 
king  was  here  last  night ;  he  called  me  to  him,  and  said 
he  heard  that  Mrs.  Delany  and  your  family  wished  you 
should  take  the  name  of  Granville,  and  that  you  desired 
it  yourself.  The  king  said  he  thought  it  very  proper,  and 
bid  me  for  the  future  call  you  Granville ;  and  the  queen 
in  a  conversation  afterwards  with  Mrs.  Delany  about  your 
family  called  your  wife  "  Mrs.  Granville  " ;  so  I  will,  if  you 
think  proper,  write  to  Pardon  to  prepare  the  instrument 
and  get  it  registered.1 


258 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

(1786-1788) 

THE  account  given  by  Madame  D'Arblay  in  her  Diary 
of  the  intimate  relations  that  existed  between  herself 
and  her  venerable  friend  during  her  period  of  service 
at  Windsor  seems  to  have  given  some  offence  to  Mrs. 
Delany 's  family,  and  also  to  her  old  servant,  Mrs.  Astley, 
who  lived  till  1832.  The  head  and  front  of  the  ' little 
Burney's  '  offending  consisted  of  her  statement  that  Mrs. 
Delany  had  been  partly  supported  by  the  Duchess  of 
Portland,  and  also  that  she  (Fanny  Burney)  had  helped 
Mrs.  Delany  to  sort  her  letters  and  papers  with  a  view 
to  putting  them  into  shape  for  an  autobiography.  Mrs. 
Astley  writes  with  considerable  severity  of  authors  who 
allow  their  imagination  overmuch  licence,  and  make 
mountains  out  of  mole-hills. 

'Except  a  small  basket  of  vegetables  once  a  week,' 
declares  Mrs.  Astley,  'not  anything  once  in  a  month 
was  sent  by  the  Duchess  of  Portland,  who  never  had 
company  at  her  own  house.  She  drank  tea  in  St.  James's 
Place  all  the  winter,  when  Mrs.  Delany  invited  those 
whom  the  duchess  liked  to  meet.  I  had  to  make  tea  at 
many  different  times  (and  a  pound  of  fine  tea  at  sixteen 
shillings  a  pound  was  gone  in  no  time),  with  cakes  and  etcs. 
As  to  money,  I  am  certain  not  even  the  present  of  the  least 
trifle  did  the  duchess  ever  give  Mrs.  Delany;  but  her 

259 


MRS.  DELANY 

spending  the  summer  at  Bulstrode,  and  giving  her 
delightful  society  so  entirely  to  herself,  so  offended  Mr. 
Granville,  when  he  asked  her  to  meet  some  particular 
friends,  that  upon  her  refusal  he  altered  his  will,  and 
after  awarding  her  £300  a  year  for  life,  he  left  her 
nothing.  .  .  .  As  to  Madame  Arblay's  looking  over  Mrs. 
Delany's  letters  and  papers,  I  doubt  the  truth  of  it  with 
good  reason,  for,  more  than  a  fortnight  before  we  left 
St.  James's  Place,  I  was  employed  upon  them  every 
morning,  in  examining  and  burning  a  large  box  of 
letters,  which  it  grieved  me  to  destroy,  as  some  of  them 
were  written  by  the  first  people  in  the  world;  but  I 
was  obliged  to  obey,  and  observed  at  the  time  that  the 
box  of  letters  would  have  been  worth  a  fortune  to  any 
one  were  they  published.  "That  is  what  I  want  to 
prevent,"  was  the  answer.  But  if  Madame  D'Arblay 
happened  to  look  over  one  letter  or  MS.,  that  was  enough 
for  an  authoress  to  build  upon.  ...  I  think  Madame 
D'Arblay  has  mentioned  very  few  of  Mrs.  Delany's  friends. 
She  had  the  first  interest  in  the  kingdom.  During  Lord 
Shelburne's  time  in  office  she  obtained  several  good  situa- 
tions for  different  people.  She  often  wrote  to  Lord  Thurlow 
in  favour  of  clergymen,  and  never  thought  anything  of 
her  own  trouble  when  there  was  a  chance  of  doing  good, 
and  was  never  more  happy  than  when  she  could  bring 
into  notice  young  artists  who  promised  to  excel.  Opie 
and  Lawrence  owed  her  much.'  Mrs.  Astley  concludes 
her  strictures  with  the  expression  of  her  belief  that 
Madame  D'Arblay  had  a  great  regard  for  Mrs.  Delany, 
but  that  she  was  so  much  in  the  habit  of  composing 
fictions  in  her  novels  that  she  was  not  to  be  depended 
upon  when  she  desired  to  work  up  an  effect  or  to  produce 
an  impression. 
260 


MRS.  DELANY 

It  was  in  the  year  1786  that  the  king  and  queen,  wishing 
to  make  Dr.  Burney  some  amends  for  his  disappointment 
in  not  having  been  appointed  master  of  the  king's  band, 
consulted  Mrs.  Delany  as  to  the  advisability  of  offering 
Miss  Burney  the  post  of  dresser,  with  which  that  of  reader 
might  be  combined.  Mrs.  Delany  having  formed,  as  has 
been  seen,  a  strong  attachment  to  Miss  Burney,  warmly 
recommended  her  to  their  Majesties.  As  we  know,  from 
Madame  D'Arblay's  Diary,  the  appointment  was  not 
altogether  a  success.  Miss  Burney  suffered  much  at 
being  separated  from  her  friends,  her  health  was  not 
strong  enough  for  the  arduous  life,  she  had  little  manual 
dexterity,  and  her  shyness  prevented  her  from  reading 
aloud  in  an  audible  voice.  Her  presence  at  Windsor, 
however,  was  a  great  pleasure  to  Mrs.  Delany,  who,  in 
a  letter  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  says:  'An  event  has  taken 
place  which  gives  me  great  satisfaction.  I  am  sure  you 
are  acquainted  with  the  novel  entitled  Cecilia,  much 
admired  for  its  good  sense,  variety  of  character,  and 
delicacy  of  sentiment.  There  is  nothing  good,  amiable, 
or  agreeable  in  the  book  that  is  not  possessed  by  the 
author  of  it,  Miss  Burney.  I  have  now  been  acquainted 
with  her  two  or  three  years.  Her  extreme  diffidence  of 
herself,  notwithstanding  her  great  genius  and  the  applause 
she  has  met  with,  adds  lustre  to  her  excellencies,  and  all 
improve  on  acquaintance.  In  the  course  of  the  last  year 
she  has  been  so  good  as  to  spend  a  few  weeks  with  me  at 
Windsor,  which  gave  the  queen  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
and  speaking  to  her.  One  of  the  principal  ladies  that 
attends  the  queen's  person  as  dresser  is  going  to  retire 
into  her  own  country,  being  in  too  bad  a  state  of  health 
to  continue  her  honourable  and  delightful  employment 
(for  such  it  must  be  near  such  a  queen).  Miss  Burney 

261 


MRS.  DELANY 

is  to  be  the  happy  successor,  chosen  without  any  par- 
ticular recommendation  from  any  one.' 

*  Miss  Burney,'  says  Lady  Llanover,  *  was  so  elated  by  this 
appointment  that  she  gradually  lost  all  consciousness  of 
her  actual  or  relative  position.  She  lived  in  an  ideal 
world,  of  which  she  imagined  herself  the  centre.  She 
fancied  that  all  the  equerries  were  in  love  with  her, 
although  she  was  really  the  constant  object  of  their 
ridicule.  Queen  Charlotte  used  to  complain  to  Mrs. 
Delany  that  Miss  Burney  could  not  learn  to  tie  the  bow 
of  her  necklace  on  court  days  without  giving  her  pain 
by  tying  the  hair  at  the  back  of  her  neck  in  with  it. 
Certainly,  Miss  Burney's  situation  was  anomalous.  As 
a  dresser  she  had  a  fixed  subordinate  position,  as  a 
successful  novel-writer  she  had  an  undefined  celebrity, 
and  though,  as  the  daughter  of  a  music-master,  she  had 
previously  no  individual  position,  yet  the  great  respect 
felt  for  Dr.  Burney  reflected  upon  her.  She  had  a  large 
share  of  vanity  and  imagination,  and  made  many  mis- 
takes in  her  various  representations  of  her  leading 
characters.' 

In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  dated  July  3rd,  1786, 
Mrs.  Delany  gives  the  following  sketch  of  her  circum- 
stances and  mode  of  life  at  this  time  :  '  My  health  holds 
out  wonderfully  in  the  midst  of  many  trying  circum- 
stances, but  I  endeavour  to  look  forward  with  hope  and 
comfort  to  that  place  where  the  weary  are  at  rest,  and 
enjoy  the  many  undeserved  blessings  still  held  out  to  me. 
During  my  short  stay  in  London  in  the  winter,  many 
alterations  were  made  in  my  house  here  which  my  royal 
benefactors  thought  would  make  it  more  commodious  to 
me;  and  it  is  now  a  most  complete,  elegant,  and  com- 
fortable dwelling,  and  I  am  hourly  receiving  marks  of 
262 


MRS.  DELANY 

attention  and  kindness  that  cannot  be  expressed.  The 
constant  course  of  my  life  at  present,  from  which  I  vary 
very  little,  is  as  follows :  I  seldom  miss  going  to  early 
prayers  at  the  king's  chapel  at  eight  o'clock,  where  I 
never  fail  to  see  their  Majesties  and  all  the  royal 
family.  .  .  .  When  chapel  is  over  all  the  congregation 
make  a  line  in  the  great  portico  till  their  Majesties  have 
passed ;  for  they  always  walk  to  chapel  and  back  again, 
and  speak  to  everybody  of  consequence  as  they  pass ; 
and  it  is  a  delightful  sight  to  see  so  much  beauty, 
dignity,  and  condescension  united  as  they  are  in  this 
royal  family.  I  come  home  for  breakfast  generally 
about  nine  o'clock,  and  then  take  the  air  for  two  hours. 
The  rest  of  the  morning  is  devoted  to  business  and  the 
company  of  my  particular  friends ;  but  I  admit  no  formal 
visitors,  as  I  really  have  not  time  or  spirits  for  it.  My 
afternoons  I  keep  entirely  to  myself,  that  I  may  have  no 
inteiTuption  whenever  my  royal  neighbours  condescend 
to  visit  me :  their  usual  time  of  coming  is  between  six 
and  seven,  and  they  generally  stay  till  between  eight  and 
nine.  They  always  drink  tea  here,  and  my  niece  has  the 
honour  of  giving  it  to  all  the  royal  family,  as  they  will 
not  suffer  me  to  do  it.  The  queen  always  places  me  on 
the  sofa  by  her,  and  the  king,  when  he  sits  down,  sits 
next  the  sofa.  Indeed,  their  visits  are  not  limited  to  the 
afternoons,  for  they  often  call  on  me  in  the  morning,  and 
take  me  as  I  am.' 

Of  one  of  these  informal  visits  Miss  Port,  who  was  then 
about  fifteen,  gives  a  description  in  a  letter  to  her  father : 
*  We  had  the  three  youngest  princesses  to  breakfast  with 
us  during  their  majesties'  absence  last  week,  and  I  entreated 
Princess  Mary  to  play  a  lesson  of  Handel's  that  mamma 
does — I  gave  her  that  as  my  reason  for  asking  for  it ;  and 

263 


MRS.  DELANY 

then  she,  with  all  the  sweetness  in  the  world,  played  it 
twice.  When  Princess  Mary  had  finished,  Princess  Sophia 
said,  "  Now  I  will  play  to  you  if  you  like,""  and  immediately 
played  the  Hallelujah  Chorus  in  the  Messiah,  and  she  and 
Princess  Mary  sang  it.  P.  Mary  has  really  a  fine  voice, 
and  P.  Sophia  a  sweet  but  weak  one.  So  between  them 
both  I  was  highly  gratified,  and  I  wished  for  mamma  to 
hear  and  see  them,  for  they  looked  like  little  angels. 
They  are  very,  very  fair,  with  fine  blue  eyes,  and  hair  exactly 
like  Fanny X  which  they  have  a  vast  deal  of,  and  which 
curls  all  down  their  backs.  They  go  without  caps,  and  are 
so  engaging  in  their  behaviour  that  everybody  must  love 
them,  and  admire  those  who  made  them  what  they  are.' 

In  September  an  attempt  was  made  by  a  lunatic  to 
assassinate  George  in.  Of  this  occurrence  Mrs.  Delany 
writes  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  *  I  am  sure  you  must  be  sensible 
how  thankful  I  am  to  Providence  for  the  late  wonderful 
escape  of  his  Majesty  from  the  stroke  of  assassination. 
The  king  would  not  suffer  anybody  to  inform  the  queen 
of  that  event  till  he  could  show  himself  in  person  to  her. 
He  returned  to  Windsor  as  soon  as  the  Council  was  over. 
When  his  Majesty  entered  the  queen's  dressing-room  he 
found  her  with  the  two  eldest  princesses  ;  and  entering  in 
an  animated  manner,  he  said,  "  Here  I  am,  safe  and  well ! " 
The  queen  suspected  from  this  saying  that  some  accident 
had  happened,  on  which  he  informed  her  of  the  whole 
affair.  The  queen  stood  struck  and  motionless  for  some 
time,  till  the  princesses  burst  into  tears,  on  which  she 
immediately  found  relief.  Joy  soon  succeeded  this  agita- 
tion of  mind,  on  the  assurance  that  the  person  was  insane, 
which  took  off  all  aggravating  suspicion ;  and  it  has  been 
the  means  of  showing  the  whole  kingdom  that  the  king 
has  the  hearts  of  his  subjects.  Their  Majesties  sent  im- 
264 


MRS.  DELANY 

mediately  to  my  house  to  give  orders  that  I  should  not 
be  told  of  it  till  next  morning,  for  fear  that  the  agitation 
should  give  me  a  bad  night.  The  Dowager  Lady  Spencer 
was  in  the  house  with  me,  and  went  with  me  to  early 
prayers  next  morning  at  eight  o'clock,  and  after  chapel 
she  separated  herself  from  me,  and  had  a  long  conference 
with  the  king  and  queen.  I  was  commanded  in  the  evening 
to  attend  them  at  the  lodge,  Lady  Spencer  having,  at  the 
Majesties1  desire,  told  me  all  the  affair.  My  happiness 
in  being  with  them  was  much  increased  by  seeing  the 
fulness  of  their  joy.1 

In  November  Horace  Walpole  sent  Mrs.  Delany  a  new 
edition  of  his  Anecdotes  of  Painting,  with  the  following 
note :  '  Mr.  Walpole  having  been  called  upon  for  a  new 
edition  of  the  Anecdotes  of  Painting,  could  not,  in  a  history 
of  English  Arts,  resist  the  agreeable  occasion  of  doing 
iustice  to  one  who  has  founded  a  new  branch.  He  hopes, 
therefore,  that  Mrs.  Delany  will  forgive  the  liberty  he  has 
taken  of  recording  her  name  in  vol.  ii.  page  242,  and  that 
she  will  please  to  consider  how  cruel  it  would  have  been 
for  him  to  be  denied  the  satisfaction  of  mentioning  her 
only  because  he  has  the  honour  and  happiness  of  her 
acquaintance.1 

The  notice  appears  in  connection  with  the  allusion  to 
Petitofs  picture  of  himself,  which  was  bequeathed  by  the 
Duchess  of  Portland  to  Mrs.  Delany  :  *  a  lady  of  excellent 
taste,  who,  at  the  age  of  seventy-four,  invented  the  art  of 
paper  mosaic,  with  which  material  (coloured)  she  executed 
in  eight  years,  within  twenty  of  one  thousand  various 
flowers  and  flowering  shrubs  with  a  precision  and  truth 
unparalleled.1 

So  close  was  the  attachment  of  the  royal  family  to  their 
friend  and  neighbour  that  they  could  not  bear  to  be 

265 


MRS.  DELANY 

parted  from  her  even  during  their  fortnightly  visits  to 
Kew.  In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Hamilton,  dated  December  25th, 
1786,  Mrs.  Delany  says :  '  I  believe  you  know  nothing  of 
my  flights  to  Kew,  which  is  about  ten  miles  from  this 
place.  The  royal  family  once  a  fortnight  take  Kew  in 
their  way  to  London.  Their  Majesties  were  so  gracious 
as  to  hint  their  wish  for  my  spending  some  days  at  Kew 
when  they  were  there,  and  to  make  it  completely  agreeable 
and  commodious,  engaged  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smelt,  who  live 
there,  to  invite  me  to  their  house,  a  pleasure  of  itself  that 
would  have  given  me  wings  for  the  undertaking.  I  availed 
myself  of  the  command  of  the  one  and  the  invitation  of 
the  other,  and  spent  part  of  two  weeks  there.  I  think 
you  can  hardly  be  a  stranger  to  the  character  of  Mr. 
Smelt,1  a  man  that  has  the  honour  of  being  friend  to  the 
king,  and  who  has  testified  to  the  world  by  his  disinterested 
and  steady  behaviour  how  worthy  he  is  of  such  a  dis- 
tinction. His  character  is  of  the  most  noble  and  delicate 
kind,  and  deserves  the  pen  of  a  Clarendon  to  do  j  ustice 
to  it.  Mrs.  Smelt  is  a  very  friendly,  sensible,  agreeable 
woman.  Their  house  is  convenient  and  elegant,  situated 
on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  open  to  all  its  beauties,  and 
guarded  from  all  its  inconveniences,  and  within  a  short 
walk  from  the  Royal  Lodge.  They  were  visited  more 
than  once  a  day  by  their  Majesties,  which  pleasure  I  had 
the  honour  of  partaking.  We  were  appointed  to  dine 
every  day  at  Miss  Burney's  table  at  the  lodge.  It  is  very 
magnificent,  and  the  society  very  agreeable,  of  about  eight 
or  ten  persons  belonging  to  their  Majesties.  About  nine 
the  king  generally  walked  into  the  room,  addressing 
everybody,  and  after  that  commanded  me  and  Mi's.  Smelt 

1  Deputy-tutor  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  1771-81. 

266 


MRS.  DELANY 

to  follow  him  to  the  queen's  apartment,  where  we  drank 
tea  and  stayed  till  near  ten  o'clock.1 

The  following  amusing  little  incident,  which  occurred 
during  one  of  those  flights  to  Kew,  is  related  in  a  letter 
from  Mrs.  Delany's  housekeeper  to  her  mistress's  old 
friend,  Mrs.  Anne  Viney:  'Their  Majesties  stayed  at 
Kew  during  the  Commemoration  performances  in  June 
1787,  and  brought  Mrs.  Delany  with  them.  On  one  of 
the  days  when  there  was  no  music  the  king  went  to 
Windsor.  As  he  was  walking  on  the  terrace,  he  thought 
he  would  go  into  Mrs.  Delany's,  and  he  knocked  at  a 
room  door.  A  young  lady  (I  suppose  Miss  Port)  was 
sitting  in  the  room,  and  said,  "  Who  is  there  ? "  The 
voice  answered,  "  It  is  me."  Then  said  she,  "  Me  may 
stay  where  he  is."  He  knocked  again,  and  she  again  said, 
"  Who  is  there  ? "  The  voice  answered,  "  It  is  me." 
Then  said  she,  "  Me  is  impertinent,  and  may  go  about  his 
business."  Upon  the  knocking  being  repeated  a  third 
time,  some  person  who  was  with  her  advised  her  to  open 
the  door,  and  see  who  it  could  be.  When,  to  her  great 
astonishment,  who  should  it  be  but  the  king  himself! 
All  she  could  utter  was,  "  What  shall  I  say  ?  "  "  Nothing 
at  all,"  said  his  Majesty.  "  You  was  very  right  to  be 
cautious  whom  you  admitted."  And  no  doubt  it  gave 
him  more  pleasure  than  if  he  had  been  received  in  any 
other  way.' 

In  January  1787  Mrs.  Delany  had  gone  to  her  town- 
house,  where  she  was  laid  up  for  some  weeks  with  a  sharp 
attack  of  fever  and  malignant  sore  throat.  Her  wonderful 
constitution  enabled  her  to  rally  from  her  indisposition  in 
spite  of_the  heroic  remedies  of  bleeding  and  fasting  pre- 
scribed by  the  doctors.  In  May  she  returned  to  Windsor, 
where  she  now  thought  of  settling  for  good.  Writing 

267 


MRS.  DELANY 

to  a  friend  in  August  she  says,  '  My  powers  are  not  equal 
to  my  will,  though  upon  the  whole  I  find  myself  tolerably 
well.  .  .  .  The  queen  has  had  the  goodness  to  command 
me  to  come  whenever  it  is  quite  easy  for  me  to  do  it, 
without  sending  for  me,  lest  it  should  embarrass  me  to 
refuse :  so  that  most  evenings  at  half-past  seven  I  go  to 
Miss  Burney1s  apartment,  and  when  the  royal  family  return 
from  the  terrace,  the  king,  or  one  of  the  princesses,  generally 
the  Princess  Amelia,  aged  four,  comes  into  the  room,  takes 
me  by  the  hand  and  leads  me  to  the  drawing-room,  where 
there  is  a  chair  for  me  by  the  queen's  left  hand;  the 
three  eldest  princesses  sit  round  the  table,  and  the  ladies- 
in-waiting.  A  vacant  chair  is  left  for  the  king,  when- 
ever he  pleases  to  sit  down.  Every  one  is  employed  with 
pencil,  needle,  or  knitting.  Between  the  pieces  of  music 
the  conversation  is  easy  and  pleasant;  and  for  an  hour 
before  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  the  king  plays  back- 
gammon with  one  of  his  equerries,  and  I  am  generally 
dismissed.1 

In  the  course  of  the  summer  Mrs.  Preston,  an  old 
Dublin  friend,  paid  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Delany,  whom  she  had 
not  seen  for  more  than  twenty  years,  and  she  writes  the 
following  account  of  their  interview  to  Mrs.  Hamilton  : 
*I  will  not  delay  giving  you  the  pleasure  I  know  you 
must  receive  from  having  such  an  account  of  Mrs.  Delany 
as  I  can  truly  give  you,  from  having  spent  two  hours  with 
her  this  morning.  I  was  with  her  at  nine,  and  heard 
(with  no  small  agitation)  her  well-known  foot  hastening 
down  to  meet  me.  For  a  few  minutes  our  meeting  was 
silent,  as  many  circumstances  rushed  into  our  minds  very 
affecting  to  us  both.  I  dreaded  seeing  the  alteration  in 
her  that  was  naturally  to  be  expected  from  twenty  years1 
absence,  from  the  period  in  her  life  from  sixty-seven  to 
268 


MRS.  DELANY 

eighty-seven.  But  I  was  soon  set  at  ease  by  seeing  the 
same  apprehension,  attention,  benevolence,  and  comfort- 
able enjoyment  of  every  pleasant  circumstance  in  her 
situation  that  you  remember  in  her.  Her  inquiries,  her 
remarks,  her  whole  conversation,  full  of  life  and  ingenuity  ; 
and  that  kind  heart  and  manner  of  expressing  its  feelings, 
as  warm  as  ever !  She  is  as  upright,  and  walks  as  alertly, 
as  when  you  saw  her.  In  short,  I  could  have  had  no  idea 
of  her  being  as  I  saw  her  in  every  way.  .  .  .  Miss  Port  is 
a  most  pleasing  girl,  with  the  manners  you  may  suppose 
Mrs.  Delany's  £leve  would  have.  The  king  and  queen 
and  all  the  younger  branches  increase  in  affection  and 
respect  to  Mrs.  Delany.  She  breakfasted  with  them 
yesterday,  and  the  king  always  makes  her  lean  upon  his 
arm.  Her  house  is  cheerful,  and  filled  with  her  own 
charming  works :  no  pictures  have  held  their  colours  so 
well.1 

Mrs.  Preston  also  relates  a  little  anecdote  of  Queen 
Charlotte's  kindness  and  consideration,  another  version  of 
which  appears  in  Madame  D'Arblay's  Diary :  *  As  soon 
as  the  Duchess  of  Portland  died  Mrs.  Delany  got  into  the 
chaise  to  go  to  her  own  home.  The  duke  followed  her, 
begging  to  know  what  she  would  accept  that  had  belonged 
to  his  mother.  Mrs.  Delany  recollected  a  bird  that  the 
duchess  always  fed  and  kept  in  her  own  room,  and 
desired  to  have  it,  and  felt  towards  it  as  you  may  suppose. 
In  a  few  days  Mrs.  Delany  got  a  bad  fever,  and  the  bird 
died ;  but  for  some  hours  she  was  too  ill  to  recollect  her 
bird.  The  queen  had  one  of  the  same  sort,  which  she 
valued  extremely  (a  weaver  bird) ;  she  took  it  with  her 
own  hands,  and  while  Mrs.  Delany  slept,  she  had  the  cage 
brought,  and  put  her  own  bird  into  it,  charging  every  one 
not  to  let  it  go  so  near  Mrs.  Delany  that  she  could  per- 

269 


MRS.  DELANY 

ceive  the  change,  till  she  was  enough  recovered  to  bear 
the  loss  of  her  first  favourite.1 

In  November  of  this  year  Henry  Bunbury,  the  famous 
caricaturist,  paid  a  visit  to  Windsor.  After  his  departure 
he  wrote,  or  rather  drew,  an  ingenious  hieroglyphic  letter 
to  Miss  Port,  of  which  the  following  is  the  interpretation  : 
*  Ass  carrying  on  a  correspondence  with  a  young  lady  is 
a  ten  dead  with  danger  in  these  Times,  wood  eye  could 
Apollo  gize  toe  ewer  ant  for  a  dress  Inn  you  without  her 
permission.  Ass  entertaining  ass  rid  Us  a  Peer  let-ter 
own  nought  is  Moor  puzzling  than  high  rogue  leaf  x. 
Teller  toe  x  plain  this  ass  fast  as  possible.  —  H.  B.1 

On  January  18th,  1788,  Mrs.  Delany  writes  from  St. 
James's  Place  :  'I  came  to  town  the  beginning  of  this  week. 
My  illustrious  neighbours  have  also  removed  to  their 
winter  quarters,  which  makes  me  less  regret  leaving 
Windsor.  This  is  now  a  melancholy  home  to  me,  as 
recollection  brings  back  the  happy  hours  that  made  this 
situation  so  dear.  My  niece  is  now  of  an  age  to  be 
indulged  with  those  amusements  which  are  reasonable  at 
her  time  of  life,  and  indeed  she  is  worthy  of  all  my  care. 
The  most  extraordinary  account  I  can  give  of  myself  is 
my  having  made  a  visit  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Locke  at  Norbury, 
about  thirty  miles  from  Windsor,  in  the  month  of  October. 
Mr.  Locke  is  esteemed  one  of  the  most  perfect  characters 
living.  His  lady's  outward  form  and  amiable  disposition 
are  truly  angelic.  They  have"  two  sons  and  three 
daughters.  The  eldest  son  is  the  first  genius  of  the  day 
for  drawing.  My  niece  spent  four  days  there  very  agree- 
ably.1 


270 


CHAPTER    XIX 

(1788) 

EARLY  in  April,  after  a  visit  to  Kew,  Mrs.  Delany  was 
taken  ill  with  a  feverish  chill  and  oppression  of  breathing. 
On  April  7th,  Miss  Port  writes  to  Mrs.  Dickenson,  '  My 
aunt  has  passed  a  very  bad  day,  the  fever  and  oppression 
on  her  breath  increasing  every  moment.  Indeed,  to  so 
violent  a  degree  that,  without  waiting  for  Dr.  Turton, 
Mr.  Young  bled  her.  She  appears  somewhat  relieved, 
but  not  so  much  as  they  expected,  upon  which  Dr.  Turton 
has  ordered  a  blister  which,  if  she  is  not  speedily  and 
greatly  relieved,  is  to  be  put  on  ... 

'  April  8th. 

'As  I  feared,  the  blister  was  obliged  to  be  applied. 
She  has  been  up  to  have  her  bed  made,  and  Mr.  Young 
says  that,  thank  God,  she  is  really  better ;  that  is,  the 
fever  is  very  much  conquered,  but  she  is  weaker  than  can 
be  imagined.' 

On  April  13th,  Bernard  Dewes  writes  to  Mrs.  Dickenson  : 
'  Miss  Port  is  gone  to  church.  I  shall  therefore  take  upon 
me  to  answer  your  kind  note,  which  I  have  the  satisfaction 
of  being  able  to  do  as  well  as  time  will  permit.  Mrs. 
Delany  certainly  continues  gradually  mending,  and  Dr. 
Turton's  expression  this  morning  was,  "  I  have  the  greatest 
reason  to  believe  that  we  shall  now  have  our  old  friend 
restored  to  us.""  But  for  that  purpose  it  is  absolutely 

271 


MRS.  DELANY 

necessary  to  keep  her  as  quiet  as  possible,  and  this  sage 
advice  we  most  carefully  observe,  so  I  hope  and  trust  her 
most  valuable  life  will  still  be  spared  to  her  family  and 
friends.' 

On  the  same  day  Horace  Walpole  wrote  to  the  same 
lady,  '  How  very  kind,  my  dear  madam,  in  the  midst 
of  your  anxiety,  to  think  of  mine  !  I  am  as  much  obliged 
to  you  as  if  you  had  cured  Mrs.  Delany.  "  Certainly 
recovering,"  I  trust  she  is,  and  that  you  will  be  rewarded 
by  enjoying  her  again.  But  I  fear  you  will  dread  London, 
after  being  received  by  such  alarms  about  her  and  your 
daughter,  who,  I  hope,  remains  quite  well ;  and  that  she 
and  you  may  live  to  Mrs.  D.'s  age,  and  be  as  much 
beloved.' 

But  even  Mrs.  Delany 's  vigorous  constitution,  which 
fnight  have  thrown  off  the  sickness,  was  not  ablejtp  .hold 
out  against  the  medical  treatment  of  that  period ;  and  on 
April  15,  1788,  she  ended  her  long,  happy,  and  blameless 
existence,  and  went  down  to  the  grave  full  of  years,  full 
of  honours,  and  mourned  by  troops  of  friends.  Her 
waiting-woman,  Mrs.  Astley,  gives  the  following  account 
of  her  mistress's  last  days  on  earth  :  '  An  inflammation  of 
the  lungs  was  certainly  the  cause  of  Mrs.  Delany's  death, 
caught  in  going  to  meet  the  Royal  family  at  Kew.  After 
three  days'  illness,  the  fever  began  to  intermit,  and  she  was 
thought  better ;  then  it  was  that  the  doctors  ordered  bark 
to  be  administered.  When  I  told  Mrs.  Delany,  she 
looked  so  distressed,  and  said,  "  I  have  always  had  a 
presentiment  that  if  bark  were  given,  it  would  be  my 
death.  You  know  I  have  at  times  a  great  defluxion 
on  my  lungs ;  it  will  stop  that,  and  my  breath  with  it." 
This  I  mentioned  to  the  doctors,  but  they  said  there  was 
no  alternative,  and  it  was  the  only  medicine  they  could 
272 


MRS.  DELANY 

depend  on  to  remove  the  fever ;  but  seeing  the  dear  lady 
so  averse  to  taking  it,  I  offered  to  keep  her  secret,  and  put 
it  away.  "  Oh,  no,"  she  said,  "  I  never  was  reckoned 
obstinate,  and  I  will  not  die  so."  The  effect  was  what 
she  had  foretold.  Many  hours — a  great  many — did  she  lie 
after  she  had  lost  the  use  of  speech,  labouring  for  breath.1 

From  the  favourable  opinion  expressed  by  her  doctors 
so  late  as  April  13,  Mrs.  Delany 's  death  caused  her  friends 
almost  as  painful  a  shock  as  though  she  had  been  in  the 
first  vigour  of  her  youth ;  and  upon  her  great-niece,  then 
in  her  seventeenth  year,  the  effect  was  overwhelming. 
'  Oh,  madam,''  writes  the  poor  girl  to  Mrs.  Dickenson, 
*  she  is  no  more !  On  Tuesday  she  expired  at  eleven 
o'clock  at  night.  Were  it  not  for  the  assurance  I  have 
of  her  felicity,  I  think  it  would  not  be  possible  for  me 
to  exist.' 

In  accordance  with  Mrs.  Delany's  oft-expressed  desire 
that  she  should  be  buried,  'no  matter  where,'  and  at 
as  small  an  expense  as  decency  would  permit,  she  was 
laid  to  rest  in  a  vault  of  her  parish  church  of  St.  James's. 
On  one  of  the  columns  of  this  church  there  is  a  tablet  to 
her  memory,  bearing  an  inscription  by  Dr.  Hurd,  Bishop 
of  Worcester,  to  the  effect  that  Mary  Delany,  n6e  Gran- 
ville,  was  'a  lady  of  singular  ingenuity  and  politeness, 
and  of  unaffected  piety.  These  qualities  endeared  her 
through  life  to  many  noble  and  excellent  persons,  and 
made  the  close  of  it  illustrious  by  procuring  for  her 
many  signal  marks  of  grace  and  favour  from  their 
Majesties.' 

Two  portraits  of  Mrs.  Delany  were  painted  by  Opie — 

one  for  the  King,  and  the  other  for  Lady  Bute.     Of  the 

former  Horace  Walpole  said  that  it  was  'pronounced' 

like  a  Rembrandt,  and  told  Mrs.  Delany  that  it  did  not 

s  273 


MRS.  DELANY 

make  her  look  older  than  she  was,  but  older  than  she  did. 
For  Lady  Bute's  portrait,  an  elaborately-carved  frame  was 
designed  by  Horace  Walpole,  the  principal  ornaments  being 
emblematic  of  Mrs.  Delany's  particular  accomplishments, 
such  as  easel,  palette,  pencil,  and  musical  instruments.  On 
the  palette  was  the  following  inscription,  also  the  work  of 
Horace  Walpole :  '  Mary  Granville,  niece  of  Lord  Lans- 
down,  correspondent  of  Swift,  widow  of  Mr.  Pendarves 
and  of  Dr.  Delany,  Dean  of  Down.  Her  piety  and 
virtues,  her  excellent  understanding,  and  her  talents  and 
taste  in  music  and  painting  were  not  only  the  merits, 
ornaments,  and  comfort  of  an  uniform  life,  but  the  bless- 
ings that  crowned  and  closed  the  termination  of  her 
existence  at  the  uncommon  age  of  eighty-eight/ 

Stilted  epitaphs,  however,  render  but  inadequate  testi- 
mony to  the  worth  of  this  'honourable  woman'  com- 
pared with  that  which  may  be  read  between  the  lines 
of  her  letters  and  recollections.  The  fact  that  she 
attained  so  great  a  celebrity  in  her  own  day,  and  that 
her  name  is  still  revered,  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
rare  triumphs  of  personal  character  over  the  more  dazz- 
ling attributes  of  genius.  She  was  no  professional  wit, 
no  publicly  toasted  beauty ;  she  never  published  a  book, 
exhibited  a  picture,  nor  even  made  herself  the  heroine 
of  a  scandal.  Her  artistic  productions,  though  admirable 
of  their  kind,  were  avowedly  the  work  of  an  amateur, 
and  were  only  known  among  her  own  circle  of  friends. 
Why,  then,  was  she  famous  ?  For  it  seems  to  be  still 
I'egarded  as  a  slight  achievement  for  a  woman  to  be 
virtuous,  cultivated,  and  charming,  though  there  may 
come  a  time  when  genius  in  the  art  of  living  may  be 
held  deserving  of  greener  and  more  glorious  laurels  than 
genius  in  the  arts  of  music,  painting,  or  poetry. 
274 


MRS.  DELANY 

In  an  interesting  and  sympathetic  article  on  Mrs. 
Delany  in  BlackwoocT s  Magazine  for  April  1862,  the  writer 
seeks  to  solve  the  problem  why  Mrs.  Delany,  who  never 
achieved  nor  even  attempted  any  public  success,  should 
shine  serenely  over  the  heads  of  the  Carters,  Rowes,  and 
Montagus  in  tender  individual  celebrity.  'Is  it,"1  he  inquires, 
'  that  some  natural  instinct  of  humanity  points  out  as  the 
perfection  of  her  sex  the  appreciative,  sympathetic  woman, 
whose  business  it  is  to  perceive,  to  comprehend,  to  quicken 
the  ear  and  eye  of  society  with  that  bright  and  sweet  intelli- 
ence  which,  in  the  most  subtle,  imperceptible  way,  leads, 
forms,  and  refines  public  opinion,  and  brings  genius  and 
excellence  into  fashion  ? '  The  reviewer  is  of  opinion  that 
Mrs.  Delany "s  reputation  was  the  spontaneous  tribute  of  one 
generation's  love,  admiration,  and  homage,  handed  down 
to  posterity  with  a  certain  indescribable  independence  of 
any  actual  foundation — differing  in  some  ineffable  fashion 
from  the  hard-earned  renown  of  heroes  and  great  men, 
yet  warm  with  a  tender  personal  sentiment  beyond  the 
reach  of  loftier  laurels,  the  quintessence  of  feminine  fame. 

*  On  her  and  such  as  her  the  world  bestows  spon- 
taneously and  of  grace  such  tender  myrtle  crownS  as 
neither  toil  nor  talent  can  obtain.1 


275 


CHAPTER   XX 

(SUPPLEMENTAL) 

AT  the  conclusion  of  old-fashioned  romances  it  used  to  be 
customary  for  the  author  to  gather  up  the  loose  ends  of 
his  story,  and  give  some  indication,  at  least,  of  the  fate 
that  befell  the  subordinate  characters.  In  the  romances 
of  real  life  it  is  not  always  easy  to  gratify  the  reader's 
supposed  desire  to  know  what  happened  to  the  various 
personages  whose  fortunes  have  been  interwoven  with 
those  of  the  hero  or  heroine.  Lady  Llanovers  edition 
of  the  Autobiography  and  Correspondence  breaks  off 
Avith  the  death  of  Mrs.  Delany;  even  Miss  Port,  the 
*  G.  M.  A.,1  whom  we  have  come  to  know  quite  inti- 
mately during  the  first  sixteen  years  of  her  life,  disappears 
from  our  sight  under  the  cloud  of  grief  that  overwhelmed 
her  for  the  loss  of  her  kind  protector  and  friend.  But 
doubtless  the  Editor  felt  that  the  family  history  became 
from  that  time  too  personal  and  too  intimate  for  her  to 
be  able  to  record  it  with  an  impartial  pen.  Others,  how- 
ever, have  in  some  measure  lifted  the  veil ;  and  with  the 
help  of  the  privately-printed  History  of  the  Granville 
Family,  by  the  Rev.  Roger  Granville ;  and  the  Memoirs 
of  the  Baroness  de  Bunsen,  by  Mr.  Augustus  Hare,  it  is 
possible  to  sketch  a  brief  sequel  to  the  story  of  Mary 
Granville. 

Of  Mrs.  Dewes1  three  sons,  Court,  Mrs.  Delany's  favourite 
276 


MRS.  DELANY 

nephew,  died  unmarried  in  1793,  when  his  brother  Bernard 
succeeded  him  at  Wellesbourne.  John,  the  youngest, 
who,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  taken  the  name  of  Gran- 
ville,  lived  at  Calwich,  where  his  Port  nephews  and  nieces 
were  frequent  visitors.  Unhappily,  Mr.  Granville's  only 
son  died  of  consumption  at  the  age  of  nineteen  ;  and  con- 
sequently Court,  the  eldest  son  of  Bernard,  succeeded 
eventually  to  both  Calwich  and  Wellesbourne,  assuming  in 
his  turn  the  name  and  arms  of  Granville.  Owing  to  unfor- 
tunate speculations,  Court  the  younger  was  obliged  to  sell 
Calwich,  a  proceeding  that  would  certainly  have  afflicted 
his  Aunt  Delany  could  she  have  lived  to  see  it.  The 
present  owner  of  Wellesbourne  and  representative  of  this 
branch  of  the  Granville  family  is  Court's  grandson,  Major 
Bevil  Granville. 

To  turn  to  the  Port  family.  Before  Mrs.  Delany's  death 
Mr.  Port  had  been  compelled  to  let  Ham,  and  remove 
with  his  large  family  to  a  house  at  Derby.  It  was 
probably  in  consequence  of  Mr.  Port's  financial  difficulties 
that  Mrs.  Delany  left  her  adopted  child,  Georgina  Port, 
in  the  charge  of  her  uncle,  Court  Dewes.  But  this  arrange- 
ment did  not  prove  a  happy  one.  Court,  although  he  had 
always  shown  himself  an  affectionate  and  dutiful  nephew, 
was  naturally  (according  to  our  chroniclers)  of  a  cold, 
ungenial  nature;  moreover,  he  is  said  to  have  disliked 
young  people,  and  to  have  treated  his  niece  with  coldness, 
as  well  as  with  neglect  of  her  worldly  interests.  Young  as 
she  was  at  the  time  of  her  aunt's  death,  Miss  Port  is 
believed  to  have  already  formed  an  attachment  for  a 
gentleman  about  the  Court,  probably  one  of  the  equerries 
to  the  King.  According  to  family  tradition,  this  engage- 
ment was  broken  off'  through  the  mischief-making  of  Fanny 
Burney,  who  considered  that  she  had  an  exclusive  claim 

277 


MRS.  DELANY 

upon  the  attentions  of  the  equerries.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
it  is  certain  that  Miss  Port  was  far  from  happy  during 
the  years  that  immediately  followed  her  aunt's  death. 

Court  Dewes,  being  obliged  to  live  a  good  deal  abroad 
for  the  sake  of  his  health,  Georgina  was  taken  charge  of 
by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  Granville,  who,  by  all  accounts, 
were  a  most  cheerful  and  kind-hearted  couple.  But  the 
young  girl,  who  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the  double 
grief  caused  by  the  loss  of  her  aunt  and  her  lover,  fancied 
that  no  one  cared  for  her,  and  that  she  was  not  wanted  by 
any  member  of  her  family.  She  imagined  that  she  could 
never  know  happiness  again,  and  that  it  mattered  little 
what  became  of  her.  During  a  season  at  Bath  her  remark- 
able beauty  brought  her  many  admirers,  among  them  Mr. 
Waddington,  a  gentleman  of  good  family  and  large  fortune. 
Mr.  Waddington's  suit  being  encouraged  by  her  uncle  and 
aunt,  Miss  Port  allowed  herself  to  be  guided  by  their 
wishes,  and  accepted  his  offer,  although  she  was  but  just 
eighteen,  while  he  was  more  than  twenty  years  her  senior. 

><    The  marriage  took  place  in  1789,  and  for  the  first  two 
years  the  couple  lived  at  Dunston  Park  in  Berkshire,  where 

;.  Frances,  afterward  the  Baroness  de  Bunsen,  was  born 
;  in  1791.  Shortly  after  her  birth,  Mr.  Waddington  bought 
the  picturesque  White  House  at  Llanover,  in  the  lovely 
valley  of  the  Usk,  formerly  the  property  of  a  branch  of 
the  Cecil  family.  Here,  in  almost  complete  seclusion,  the 
young  wife  was  content  to  remain  for  the  next  eleven 
years,  occupying  herself  with  her  books,  her  drawing,  and 
the  education  of  her  little  daughters.  From  the  childish 
recollections  of  the  Baroness  Bunsen  some  idea  may  be 
formed  of  the  occupations  and  amusements  of  those  quiet 
years.  The  children  were  brought  up  in  habits  of  hardy 
independence,  and  were  never  overburdened  with  lessons, 
278 


MRS.  DELANY 

though  what  was  learned  had  to  be  learned  thoroughly. 
They  led   a   healthy   out-of-door    existence — riding    the 
horses    barebacked,    paddling    in    the    little    brook   that 
rushes  through  the  grounds,  and  climbing  the  hills  that 
surround  their  home.     Occasionally  we  get  a  glimpse  of 
the  Dewes  and  Port  relations.     Frances  goes  to  stay  with 
her  grandfather,  Mr.  Port,  at  Derby,  where  she  is  dazzled 
by  the  beauty  of  her  Aunt  Louisa,  and  charmed  by  the 
gentle  unselfishness  of  her  Aunt  Harriet,  who,  as  the  only 
plain  member  of  a  handsome  family,  was  not  as  highly 
appreciated  as  she  deserved.     There  were  visits,  too,  to 
Wellesbourne  and  Calwich,  and  after  1805  a  yearly  expedi- 
tion to  London,  when  the  Queen  and  the  princesses  used 
to  talk  over  old  times  with  Mrs.  Waddington,  and  admire 
her  pretty  children.     Dr.  Burney  occasionally  dined  with 
the  Waddingtons  in  town ;  and  it  appears  that  Madame 
D'Arblay's  pension  had  been   restored  to  her  after  her 
marriage,   on    the   representation    of  Mrs.   Waddington, 
who  had  made  known  her  reduced  circumstances  to  Queen 
Charlotte.    If  the  story  of  Fanny  Burney's  mischief-making 
rests  on  good  foundations,  this  was  certainly  a  case  of 
heaping  coals  of  fire  on  an  enemy's  head. 

In  the  winter  of  1816-17  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Waddington, 
with  their  three  surviving  daughters,  Frances,  Emily,  and 
Augusta,  went  to  Rome,  a  journey  which  was  to  mark 
the  beginning  of  a  new  epoch  in  the  lives  of  two  at  least 
of  the  party.  Bunsen,  then  a  young  unknown  student, 
was  admitted  to  intimacy  with  the  Waddington  family, 
and  allowed  to  read  German  with  Frances.  A  love 
affair  was  the  not  unnatural  consequence,  but  the  declara- 
tion of  this  attachment  was  received  with  some  con- 
sternation by  the  young  lady's  parents.  In  being  poor, 
obscure,  and  a  foreigner,  Bunsen  had  committed  three 

279 


MRS.  DELANY 

crimes  against  the  usual  English  standard  of  eligibility. 
However,  Niebuhr,  who  was  consulted  in  the  matter, 
expressed  his  earnest  conviction  that  the  talents  and 
character  of  Bunsen  constituted  a  capital  far  more  re- 
munerative than  any  money  investment.  Mrs.  Wadding- 
ton,  remembering  possibly  that  by  the  feminine  traditions 
of  her  own  family  character  had  almost  invariably  been 
placed  above  rank  or  fortune,  allowed  herself  to  be  guided 
by  Niebuhr's  advice,  and  the  marriage  took  place  in  July 
1817.  Little  more  than  twenty  years  later,  that  ineligible 
'  son-in-law  came  to  London  as  Prussian  Minister  at  the 
Court  of  St.  James. 

Within  two  or  three  days  of  her  sister's  wedding,  Emily, 
whose  health  had  always  been  delicate,  was  married  to 
Colonel  Manby,  a  union  that  was  cut  short  by  death  only 
two  years  later.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Waddington,  accompanied 
only  by  their  youngest  daughter,  returned  to  their  quiet 
home  at  Llanover.  Augusta,  a  brilliant,  high-spirited  girl 
of  fifteen,  had  already  given  proofs  of  a  strong  individu- 
ality and  considerable  natural  gifts.  The  studies  that 
failed  to  appeal  to  her  she  absolutely  rebelled  against; 
but  when  her  interest  was  once  roused,  her  energy  and  per- 
severance were  inexhaustible.  Her  drawings  had  won  praise 
from  Thorwaldsen,  she  was  already  a  fine  linguist,  and  now 
the  history,  literature,  and  music  of  her  Welsh  fatherland 
were  to  become  the  chief  objects  of  her  enthusiasm.  But 
her  sympathies  were  wide.  The  eighteenth  century  and 
its  traditions  also  possessed  a  strong  fascination  for  her; 
and  it  is  certain  that  she  proved  an  eager  and  attentive 
listener  to  her  mother's  stories  of  '  Aunt  Delany,"  her  life 
and  times.  No  doubt  the  old  family  letters  were  read 
and  re-read  during  the  long  winter  evenings  at  Llanover, 
the  fairy-like  embroideries  examined  and  copied,  and  the 
280 


MRS.  DELANY 

leaves  of  the  famous  Flora   turned  over   with   reverent 
hands. 

-  In  1823  Augusta  Waddington,  then  twenty-one,  was 
'married  to  Mr.,  afterwards  Sir  Benjamin,  Hall  of  Aber- 
carne,  who  was  created  Lord  Llanpyer  in  1859.  After 
his  marriage  Mr.  Hall  hought  a  portion  of  the  old 
Llanover  estate,  and  built  upon  it  the  large  mansion,  now 
known  as  the  Lower  House.  Mr.  Waddington  died  in 
1828 ;  and  the  following  year  Mrs.  Waddington,  accom- 
panied by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hall,  paid  another  visit  to  Rome, 
and  saw  her  eldest  daughter  again,  after  a  separation  that 
had  lasted  eleven  years.  The  Bunsens"1  large  family  and 
straitened  means  kept  them  for  the  most  part  stationary ; 
but  in  1838  they  came  with  their  children  to  Llanover, 
when  the  church-bells  were  rung  and  the  avenues  decorated 
to  do  them  honour.  In  1841  Bunsen  was  appointed  to 
represent  his  country  at  the  Court  of  St.  James. 

Down  to  the  end  of  her  long  life  Mrs.  Waddington,  we 
are  told,  retained  her  warm  sympathies  and  her  wonderful 
intellect.  The  last  years  of  her  existence  passed  peacefully 
in  her  country  home,  among  her  peasant  neighbours,  and 
it  is  pleasant  to  know  that  her  enjoyment  of  simple  natural 
pleasures — her  birds,  her  flowers,  and  her  books — remained 
as  fresh  as  in  the  days  of  her  girlhood.  At  a  dinner  given 
to  the  villagers  during  the  last  Christmas  season  of  her 
life,  one  of  the  old  men,  instead  of  drinking  her  health, 
said,  '  I  drink,  Madam,  to  your  happy  passage  to  the 
realms  of  bliss ;  we  can  neither  of  us  be  very  long  in  this 
world.' — '  That  is  the  very  best  toast  I  ever  heard  in  my 
life,1  was  her  reply.  Barely  six  months  later,  on  June  15, 
1850,  when  she  had  been  occupied  as  usual  in  arranging 
her  flowers  and  reading  her  letters,  Mrs.  Waddington 
received  what  she  felt  to  be  her  death-stroke.  With  the 

281 


MRS.  DELANY 

fine  fortitude  that  was  one  of  the  traditions  of  her 
eighteenth-century  training,  she  walked  unassisted  to  her 
room,  lay  down  upon  her  bed,  and  never  spoke  again, 
thus  mercifully  escaping  long  lingering  months  of  feeble- 
ness and  uselessness  that  would  have  been  intolerable  to 
one  of  her  strong  mind  and  active  habits.  She  had  left 
directions  that  she  was  to  be  buried  in  the  earth, '  like  the 
poor ' ;  and  when  her  coffin  was  borne  to  the  little  church- 
yard across  the  park,  the  ancient  Welsh  dirge  called 
'  Gorphenwyd '  was  chanted  by  the  people  among  whom 
she  had  passed  her  life. 

It  was  fortunate  that  the  White  House — now  known  as 
the  Upper  House  (or  Ty  Uchaf ) — and  its  treasures,  many 
of  which  had  belonged  to  Mrs.  Delany,  passed  into  the 
reverent  keeping  of  Lady  Llanover.  The  old  house,  though 
rarely  inhabited,  was  kept  up  in  its  accustomed  state,  and 
the  decorations,  when  renewed,  were  chosen  to  harmonise 
with  the  eighteenth-century  furniture.  It  seems  probable 
that  Lady  Llanover  had  long  in  contemplation  the  publi- 
cation of  Mrs.  Delany's  Correspondence,  and  had  collected 
materials  from  other  members  of  the  family  ;  but  it  is  not 
until  the  late  '  fifties '  that  we  find  her  regularly  at  work 
upon  the  book,  selecting,  arranging,  and  annotating  the 
vast  mass  of  material.  In  1857  she  spent  three  months  in 
London,  going  daily  to  the  British  Museum,  accompanied 
by  her  assistants,  for  purposes  of  research  and  verification. 
In  1861  the  first  series  appeared  in  three  substantial  volumes, 
ornamented  with  numerous  engravings  from  family  portraits, 
and  enriched  by  voluminous  notes.  This  was  followed,  in 
1862,  by  the  second  series,  also  consisting  of  three  volumes, 
with  an  index  covering  nearly  a  hundred  pages. 

A  brief  account  of  the  reception  that  was  accorded  to 
this  remarkable  book  forty  years  ago  may  not  be  without 
282 


MRS.  DELANY 

interest  to  the  modern  reader.  The  sale  is  said  to  have 
been  larger  than  was  expected,  considering  the  high  price 
of  the  work,  and  its  value  was  soon  recognised  by  the 
genuine  lover  of  chronicles  of  old  days  and  by  the  earnest 
student  of  eighteenth-century  history,  a  public  fit  though 
few;  few,  that  is,  in  comparison  with  the  novel-reading 
multitudes.  Curiously  enough,  the  book  was  ignored  by 
both  the  Edinburgh  and  the  Quarterly  Reviews,  though 
the  Diaries  of  a  Lady  of  Quality  and  Mrs.  Trenches  Letters 
were  noticed  in  the  pages  of  one  or  both  about  the  same 
time.  Two  long  and  exhaustive  reviews  appeared  in  the 
Athenaeum  (among  other  journals),  and  one,  to  which 
allusion  has  already  been  made,  in  Blackwood's  Magazine, 
The  former  were  sufficiently  appreciative,  though  written 
in  the  rather  patronising  and  flippant  style  affected  by 
the  reviewers  of  the  early  '  sixties.'  The  first  Athenaeum 
notice,  which  appeared  on  January  5,  1861,  begins  with 
the  quoted  declaration  of  '  a  certain  sagacious  man  of  the 
world,1  to  the  effect  that  if  he  were  permitted  to  hold 
converse  with  a  departed  spirit  he  would  summon  up  that 
of  Guy  Faux.  The  reviewer,  on  the  other  hand,  held  that 
a  long  passed-away  lady,  willing  to  return  and  tell  her 
little  secrets,  would  be  something  more  delicious  still,  and 
remarked  that  one  of  the  ladies  whose  spirits  he  had  most 
desired  to  see  was  Mrs.  Delany. 

4  No  matter  whether  she  came  as  the  well-memoried 

chatty  widow,  or  as  her  earlier  and  blooming  self,  the 

tender,  irresistible  Mary  Granville,  or  as  the  sad  child-wife, 

the  staid  young  Mrs.  Pendarves.     In  either  character  she 

would  have  received  the  warmest  welcome,  and  here  [in 

the  Correspondence]  we  have  the  dear  delicious  creature 

/•  in  all  three.1     After  pointing  out  that  Lord  Brougham  or 

,  Lord  Lyndhurst  in  early  boyhood  might  have  seen  her 

283 


MRS.  DELANY 

first  husband  was  born  in  the  reign  of  Charles  n., 
who  herself  sat  in  the  lap  of  Bolingbroke  at  Powell's 
Puppet  Show,  who  played  with  Kitty  of  Queensberry,  who 
was  petted  by  the  ex-maids  of  honour  of  Queen  Mary, 
admired  by  Swift,  complimented  on  her  dress  by  Queen 
Caroline,  and  loved  as  a  friend  by  Queen  Charlotte — he 
concludes :  '  Is  not  this  a  woman  to  listen  to  ?  Is  not  this 
.woman  one  at  whose  story  we  are  warranted  in  drawing 
the  curtains,  wheeling  round  the  sofa,  brightening  the 
fire?1 

The  Blackwood  reviewer  brackets  Mrs.  Delany  with 
Mrs.  Thrale,  a  conjunction  that  in  her  lifetime  the  former 
lady  had  always  been  careful  to  avoid.  However,  his 
comments  are  for  the  most  part  discriminating,  more 
especially  when  he  deals  with  the  curious  side-lights  that 
gleam  from  every  page  of  the  book  upon  questions  in 
which  women  have  the  strongest  interest.  Love,  as  he 
remarks  with  perfect  justice,  has  scarcely  any  recognised 
place  in  these  records.  *  Those  fair,  virtuous,  cultivated 
women  have  little  to  say  to  the  doubtful  divinity.  When 
they  are  suitably  married,  it  is  with  a  mild  equanimity  and 
friendship  that  they  regard  the  partner  of  their  life.  He 
is  mon  ami  to  his  calm  consort.  .  .  .  Kindness,  affection, 
equality  of  sentiments,  and  mutual  good  opinion  reigned 
between  the  placid  pairs,  while  the  wife  found  in  a  circle 
of  enthusiastic  female  friends  that  passionate  and  tender 
love  which  had  nothing  to  do  with  commonplace,  matri- 
monial bonds.' 

Beyond  a  doubt  Mrs.  Delany  might  have  said,  like  John 
Donne,  that  friendship  was  her  second  religion.  In  the 
course  of  her  long  life,  her  numerous  friendships,  tender, 
loyal,  and  all-enduring,  were  handed  down,  like  precious 
heirlooms,  from  one  generation  to  another. 
284 


MRS.  DELANY 

It  is  only  natural,  perhaps,  that  the  reviewer  should 
allude  somewhat  slightingly  to  Mrs.  Delany's  works  as 
'  pretty  efforts  of  female  ingenuity .""  Her  Flora,  her  pastels, 
and  her  embroideries  had  been  only  seen  during  the 
past  seventy  years  by  members  of  the  family  at  Llanover 
and  their  friends.  But  an  inspection  of  the  two  volumes 
of  the  Flora — now  in  the  JRrint  Room  at  the  British 
Museum — will  be  sufficient  to  prove  that  its  merit  was 
not  overrated  by  the  artists  and  naturalists  of  her  own 
day.  At  the  time  of  the  Diamond  Jubilee  the  Hon.  Mrs. 
Herbert  of  Llanover  was  anxious  to  have  some  of  the 
specimens  copied  to  present  to  the  Queen.  The  only 
person  found  capable  of  successfully  copying  these  *  efforts 
of  female  ingenuity,1  executed  in  advanced  old  age,  was 
a  Japanese  artist,  who  happened  to  be  in  London.  A 
glance  at  the  finest  of  the  pastels  preserved  at  Llanover 
is  sufficient  to  convince  the  beholder  that  if  Mary 
Granville  had  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  a  professional 
training,  we  might  have  had  an  English  woman  pastellist 
who  would  have  rivalled  Rosalba  on  her  own  ground. 
The  embroideries,  again,  are  really  needle-paintings  in 
the  truest  sense  of  the  word,  and  when  framed  and  glazed 
have  all  the  effect  of  old  illuminations.  Mrs.  Delany 
certainly  carried  out  her  theory  that  the  ornamental 
work  of  gentlewomen  ought  to  be  superior  to  bought 
work  in  design  and  execution,  and  that  their  plain  work 
should  be  the  model  for  their  maids. 

As  might  perhaps  have  been  expected,  the  reviewers 
allude  with  something  like  dismay  to  the  'six  vast 
volumes ""  in  which  the  book  appeared,  and  attribute  its 
bulk  to  the  veneration  with  which  the  Editor  regarded 
her  distinguished  relation,  whose  lightest  word  she  thought 
worthy  of  preservation.  In  1861  the  theory  of  'recon- 

285 


MRS.  DELANY 

struction,1  as  applied  to  historical  work,  was  comparatively 
new,  and  had  not  to  any  great  extent  been  put  into 
practice.  Hence,  the  documentary  value  of  even  the  most 
trifling  details  of  domestic  life  in  bygone  days  was  not  yet 
fully  understood.  History,  to  the  great  majority  still 
meant  little  more  than  a  report  (whose  accuracy  was  often 
affected  by  party  spirit  or  prejudice)  of  battles,  diplomatic 
treaties,  and  political  intrigues,  while  its  dramatis  per sonas 
consisted  of  princes,  statesmen,  and  military  leaders.  The 
'atmosphere1  of  a  period,  the  daily  life  of  a  people — 
these  were  petty  matters,  beneath  the  notice  of  an  historian 
of  the  classic  school.  Macaulay,  it  is  true,  in  the  final 
volumes  of  his  history,  published  in  1855,  had  made  a 
successful  attempt  to  reconstitute  for  his  readers  the 
actual  life  of  the  closing  years  of  the  seventeenth  century ; 
but  in  the  eyes  of  many  of  his  contemporaries  the  fact 
that  his  book  was  as  interesting  as  any  novel,  was  merely 
an  additional  proof  of  the  inaccuracy  of  his  facts  and  the 
unsoundness  of  his  opinions. 

In  France,  Taine  and  the  De  Goncourts,  in  their  histori- 
cal essays,  were  doing  brilliant  work  on  the  lines  of  recon- 
struction. The  latter,  more  especially  in  their  vivid 
pictures  of  society  in  France  under  the  Republic  and  the 
First  Empire,  had  forsaken  the  dry-as-dust  records  be- 
loved of  their  colleagues,  and  had  relied  for  their  material 
upon  'living  documents1  in  the  shape  of  newspapers, 
letters,  diaries,  squibs,  almanacs,  and  other  contemporary 
ephemerides.  They  had  indeed  gone  so  far  as  to  assert 
that  *  un  temps  dont  on  n'a  pas  un  echantillon  de  robe  et 
un  menu  de  diner,  Thistoire  ne  le  voit  pas  vivre.'  It 
is  easy  to  imagine  the  avidity  with  which  the  brothers 
would  have  fallen  upon  the  correspondence  of  Mrs.  Delany 
had  she  been  their  compatriot,  more  especially  when 
286 


MRS.  DELANY 

we  remember  their  theory  that  the  old  lady's  tub-chair 
(tonneau)  was  the  social  pillar  of  the  eighteenth  century ; 
and  their  testimony  to  the  historical  value  of  these  '  living 
memories1  in  mob  cap  and  spectacles,  who  held  the 
traditions  of  the  past  in  their  wrinkled  hands,  and 
exercised  so  gentle  yet  potent  an  influence  on  those  who 
came  after  them. 

The  Blackwood  reviewer  observes  that  the  Delany 
Correspondence  is  essentially  'a  female  book,1  an  'ill 
phrase,"  but  it  will  pass.  We  know  he  meant  that  the 
book  presented  the  woman's  point  of  view ;  that  it  was,  in 
short,  a  feminine  commentary  upon  the  people  and  events 
of  the  period,  written  frankly,  freely,  carelessly,  and 
intended  only  for  the  eyes  of  relations  or  intimate  friends. 
But  the  fact  that  it  is  so  completely  a  '  female  book  ' 
will  hardly  lessen  its  value  in  the  eyes  of  reflecting 
persons.  Since  the  first  dawn  of  civilisation  we  have 
been  made  familiar  with  the  man's  point  of  view ;  but, 
with  few  exceptions,  the  woman's  thoughts,  feelings, 
opinions,  have  been  buried  with  her,  and  the  half  of 
human  history  is  left  a  blank.  What  would  we  not  give 
nowadays  for  the  Travels  of  a  Lady  Mandeville,  the 
Familiar  Letters  of  a  Mrs.  Howell,  the  Diary  of  a  Mrs. 
Evelyn,  or  a  Mrs.  Pepys  ? 

By  the  critics  and  public  of  1861  a  biographical  work 
appears  to  have  been  judged  upon  its  merits  as  a  'story' 
rather  than  as  a  document  for  the  elucidation  of  history. 
There  was  a  decided  impatience  of  gossiping  records 
and  of  the  repetition  of  trivial  incidents  which  had 
no  direct  bearing  upon  the  life-drama  of  hero  or 
heroine.  It  was  not  yet  generally  realised  that  the 
chronicles  of  small  beer  improve,  like  many  other 
things,  with  keeping,  and  that  even  '  female  gossip '  which 

287 


MRS.  DELANY 

is  upwards  of  a  century  old  acquires  the  same  kind  of 
pathetic  interest  as  a  woman's  work-bag  or  a  child's  play- 
thing that  has  come  down  to  us  out  of  a  remote  past.  We 
could  better  spare  better  things  than,  for  instance,  the 
gossip  of  a  Dame  Margaret  Paston,  or  of  certain  ladies 
of  the  Verney  family.  Splendidly  as  the  eighteenth 
century  has  been  illustrated  for  us  by  the  literary  and 
political  correspondence  of  a  Pope  or  a  Swift,  a  Burke  or 
a  Bolingbroke,  by  the  vivid  character- portraits  of  a 
Hervey,  and  the  witty  chronicles  of  a  Walpole  or  Wortley 
Montagu,  the  picture  would  still  be  incomplete  without 
those  details  of  the  vie  mtime  of  the  period  which  are 
painted  with  Dutch  fidelity  by  Mrs.  Delany.  From  her 
we  know  exactly  how  life  appeared  to  a  well-bred,  well- 
educated  woman  in  the  reigns  of  the  first  three  Georges. 
Nothing  is  hid  from  us.  We  are  the  confidantes  of  her 
love-affairs,  we  assist  at  her  toilettes,  we  accompany  her 
to  weddings  and  christenings,  to  operas  and  masquerades, 
we  look  over  her  shoulder  when  she  reads  or  works,  we 
help  her  to  carry  out  her  shopping  commissions  for 
country  correspondents,  we  are  privy  to  her  little  acts 
of  charity,  we  share  her  tender  anxiety  for  sick  or  absent 
friends.  It  is  these  familiar  trifles  of  everyday  life  that 
put  marrow  into  the  dry  bones  of  history,  and  blood  into 
its  flaccid  veins. 

The  great  work  off  her  hands,  Lady  Llanover  still  found 
plenty  to  occupy  her  energies.  The  cause  of  Welsh 
literature,  Welsh  education,  and  Welsh  music  appealed 
as  strongly  as  ever  to  her  sympathies.  Her  library  con- 
tains a  fine  collection  of  the  national  chronicles  and 
national  airs  of  the  Principality,  while  she  was  the 
originator  of  the  Welsh  Collegiate  Institution  at  Llan- 
dovery.  For  thirty  years  it  was  her  custom  on  St.  David's 
288 


MRS.  DELANY 

Day  to  send  an  offering  of  ornamental  leeks  to  the  Prince 
and  Princess  of  Wales.  These  leeks,  which  were  intended 
to  be  worn  as  badges,  consisted  of  a  mother-o'-pearl  bulb, 
strings  of  seed  pearls,  and  green  ribbon.  Like  Mrs. 
Delany,  Lady  Llanover  was  not  afraid  of  undertaking 
a  new  art  late  in  life,  for  she  began  to  study  oil-painting 
when  she  was  more  than  sixty  years  of  age.  As  a  draughts- 
woman and  embroideress  she  had  always  excelled,  besides 
inheriting  the  family  talent  for  cutting  out  portraits  in 
paper. 

After  Lord  Llanover's  death  in  1867,  his  widow  reigned 
in  solitary  state  for  close  upon  thirty  years,  her  only 
surviving  child,  the  Honourable  Augusta  Hall,  being 
already  married  to  Mr.  Herbert  of  Llanarth.  Lady 
Llano  ver's  mode  of  life  was  governed  in  great  measure 
by  the  traditions  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  her  tastes 
were  modelled  upon  those  of  Mrs.  Delany.  She  inherited, 
no  doubt,  the  family  tendency  to  length  of  life,  yet  the 
fact  that  she  lived  to  enter  her  ninety-fourth  year  was 
probably  partly  due  to  her  abstemious  habits.  She 
believed,  possibly  with  justice,  that  most  people  ate  and 
drank  too  much,  and  she  regarded  the  younger  generation 
as  a  somewhat  degenerate  race.  A  rigid  abstainer  her- 
self, she  proved  the  sincerity  of  her  convictions  by  closing 
every  public-house  on  her  estate,  thereby  cutting  off  a 
substantial  source  of  income.  Five  o'clock  tea  and  late 
dinner  she  entirely  disdained,  taking  her  own  dinner  at 
two  o'clock,  and  tea  at  eight.  This  rtgime,  combined 
with  plenty  of  fresh  air  and  exercise,  proved  eminently 
successful  in  her  own  case,  for  she  scarcely  knew  a  day's 
illness  down  to  the  time  of  her  death,  from  the  natural 
weakness  of  old  age,  in  January  1896. 

In  an  obituary  notice  that  appeared  in  the  Athenaeum 
T  289 


MRS.  DELANY 

the  writer  observes  that  Lady  Hanover's  'remarkable 
energy,  her  untiring  powers  of  work,  and  her  tenacity  of 
purpose,  ensured  the  success  of  most  of  the  projects  which, 
during  a  long  life,  she  undertook  with  an  enthusiasm 
rarely  equalled  ;  and  when  asked  how  it  was  that  she 
almost  invariably  attained  the  ends  for  which  she  strove, 
"By  remembering  my  mother's  advice,"  was  her  reply, 
"never  to  lose  sight  of  your  object,  or  any  opportunity 
of  furthering  it.  .  .  ."  Lady  Llanover  possessed  remark- 
able quickness  of  perception  and  insight  into  business, 
and  a  genuine  gift  for  narration,  so  that  it  is  to  be 
regretted  that  she  has  left  no  personal  record  of  the 
varied  experiences  of  her  life.  She  retained  to  the  last 
the  charm  of  manner  and  appearance  that  had  belonged  to 
her  earlier  life.  Failing  sight  and  bodily  feebleness  alone 
showed  her  advanced  years.1 

With  the  death  of  Lady  Llanover  a  link  was  snapped 
that  had  almost  joined  the  eighteenth  with  the  twentieth 
century,  but  it  is  pleasant  to  know  that  the  family  tradi- 
tions and  the  family  treasures  are  still  in  safe  keeping. 
The  Upper  House  stands  where  it  did,  surrounded  by  its 
bodyguard  of  veteran  trees,  and  to  enter  it  is  to  discover 
what  seems  to  be  an  enchanted  dwelling  wherein  the  clock 
has  stood  still  for  more  than  a  hundred  years.  There  is  a 
dignified,almost  an  austere,  simplicity  of  furniture  and  deco- 
ration which  is  rest  and  refreshment  to  the  eye  wearied  with 
the  fripperies  and  draperies  of  the  modern  drawing-room. 
Here  we  see  Mrs.  Delany's  little  spinnet  on  which  Mr. 
Handel  played,  and  there  her  portrait  of  the  Duchess  of 
Queensberry,  and  the  beautiful  pastel  of  Sigismunda  with 
the  heart  of  Guiscard  that  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  mistook 
for  an  oil-painting.  Mrs.  Delany  would  assuredly  have 
felt  herself  at  home  in  the  '  parlour ?  that  was  Mrs.  Wad- 
290 


MRS.  DELANY 

dington's  favourite  sitting-room.  On  the  walls  are  a 
couple  of  specimens  of  her  famous  cut  paper  flowers, 
and  a  few  family  portraits.  The  shelves  are  filled  with 
books,  most  of  which  she  might  have  read,  old  novels 
in  numerous  volumes,  bound  in  grey-blue  boards  with 
white  backs ;  a  long  array  of  the  Critical  and  Monthly 
Reviews,  to  the  mercy  of  whose  contributors  Fanny 
Burney  appealed  in  the  preface  to  Evelina;  letters, 
memoirs,  and  journals  of  last-century  celebrities,  all  in 
early  editions.  Even  the  wall-paper  is  of  Mrs.  Delany's 
favourite  colour,  a  deep,  yet  brilliant,  shade  of  blue.  At 
the  solid,  serviceable  table  we  can  imagine  her  occupied 
with  one  of  her  ingenious  works,  while  '  G.M.A.1  practised 
her  minuet  steps  on  the  polished  boards,  and  the  '  amiable 
Duchess,1  in  her  many  wrappings,  sat  beside  a  huge  fire. 
It  is  to  be  hoped  that  this  unique  interior,  which  is  so 
admirable  a  memorial  both  of  Mrs.  Delany  and  of  that 
fast-receding  period  which  we  must  soon  learn  to  regard 
as  *  the  century  before  last,'  may  long  be  preserved  in  all 
its  picturesque  completeness. 


291 


CHAPTER   XXI 

AMONG  the  manuscripts  relating  to  Mrs.  Delany  are  several 
unpublished  letters  written  to  or  from  friends  of  hers,  and 
also  one  or  two  papers  containing  contemporary  accounts 
of  curious  matrimonial  arrangements.  Three  letters  of 
Miss  Seward's,  the  Lichfield  'poetess,1  the  first  to  Mrs. 
Port,  and  the  others  to  Court  Dewes,  are  characteristic 
specimens  of  her  flamboyant  style.  The  first  of  these  is 
dated  May  11,  1787,  Miss  Seward  being  then  just  forty 
years  old,  and  at  the  zenith  of  her  poetical  fame.  The 
following  is  an  extract  from  this  remarkable  production, 
which  reads  less  like  a  serious  effort  than  a  parody  upon 
what  Miss  Seward  herself  would  have  called  the  *  epistolary 
effusions  "*  of  the  time  : — 

'Mv  DEAR  MADAM, — I  had  great  pleasure  in  reading 
your  letter.  Amiable  are  those  effusions  of  maternal 
tenderness  which  flowed  from  your  pen.  What  a  pity  it 
is  that  Disease  should  ever  cloud  the  energies  of  such  a 
brain  !  I  have  myself  of  late  been  very  unwell — pain  and 
weariness  in  my  limbs ;  and  after  reading  or  writing  for 
half-an-hour  an  unconquerable  torpor  seems  to  cloud  my 
brain.  Beneath  the  retarding  power  of  this  indisposition 
my  epistolary  debts  accumulate  to  a  terrifying  magnitude. 
When  last  we  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mr.  Port  I 
thought  of  going  instantly  to  Buxton,  but  as  I  go  to  Ludlow 
292 


MRS.  DELANY 

in  June  I  cannot  think  of  so  long  an  absence  from  my 
father.  And  thus,  which  is  a  very  strong  inducement  to 
neglect  for  once  the  call  of  Hygeia,  I  shall  be  at  home  to 
receive  you  upon  the  22nd,  on  your  road  to  Ham.  Ah  ! 
now,  if  Miss  Port  should  be  with  you,  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  her  would  recompense  my  disappointment  that 
Mr.  Dewes  cannot  accompany  you.  I  long  to  see  and 
converse  with  the  dear  girl  whose  fine  sense  and  ingenuous 
manners  the  imperial  smile  has  not  had  power  to  dazzle 
or  seduce ;  and  who  preserves  the  village  simplicity  while 
she  acquires  the  polish  of  courts.  The  desire  I  have  long 
felt  that  my  Calwich  friends  and  Mr.  Dewes  might  hear 
our  choral  minstrels  in  the  Church  Service  is  thrown  out 
of  present  probability.  They  are  pulling  down  the  carved 
work  with  axes  and  hammers,  and  the  voice  of  harmony 
is  silent  amidst  their  dissonance.  .  .  .' 

With  Mr.  Court  Dewes  Miss  Seward  evidently  carried 
on  a  sort  of  literary  flirtation,  consulting  him  about 
her  work,  and  exchanging  criticisms  on  poets  old  and 
new.  In  an  undated  letter  addressed  to  Mr.  Dewes  she 
writes : — 

'  If  leisure  should  always  come  to  me  in  such  limited 
portions  as  it  has  lately  done,  and  if  such  a  dispropor- 
tional  number  of  employments  should  be  pressed  upon 
those  intervals  by  Prudence,  and  by  my  friendships  (all 
which  appear  to  me  extremely  probable),  the  projected  mis- 
cellany can  never  appear.  Transcribing  the  two  epistles 
from  my  correspondence  with  her  to  whom  the  letters 
I  read  at  Calwich  were  addressed,  is  all  the  progress  in  that 
intended  publication  which  I  have  been  able  to  make 
since  we  parted ;  tho'  I  have  scribbled  at  every  possible 
recess  from  business,  company  and  exercise,  but  it  has 

293 


MRS.  DELANY 

been  in  wading  thro1  the  depths  of  my  epistolary  obliga- 
tions to  living1  friends.  On  my  return  home  eleven  letters 
were,  with  unbroken  seals,  put  into  my  hands  ;  and  seven 
of  them  were  very  long,  nor  have  I  received  less  than  four 
or  five  a  week  ever  since.  Mr.  Hardinge  sends  me  per- 
petual paquets,  containing  many  sheets,  each  full  of  wit, 
humour,  and  genius,  both  in  and  out  of  measure,  com- 
bined with  the  most  provokingly  stimulative  opinions  of 
the  want  of  genius  in  our  modern  poets,  with  whose  works 
I  can  perceive  he  is  almost  wholly  unacquainted,  tho1  he 
has  possessed  himself  with  a  conviction  of  their  incom- 
petence. Thus  discovering  himself  a  Child  of  Prejudice, 
he  robs  the  flattering  encomiums  he  lavishes  upon  my 
writings  of  all  their  sweetness.  It  is  impossible  I  can 
be  gratified  with  praise  which  is  denied  to  authors 
to  whose  works  mine  bear  the  same  comparison  that  the 
figure  of  an  opera-dancer  in  plaister-of-Paris  upon  a 
mantelpiece  bears  to  the  Apollo  Belvidere  in  purest 
marble. 

'  From  want  of  time  it  is  utterly  out  of  my  power  to 
answer  these  letters  with  a  fifth  part  of  the  speed  and 
profusion  with  which  I  receive  them  ;  yet  the  returns, 
poor  as  they  are,  that  politeness  and  gratitude  on  my  own 
account,  and  indignation  on  that  of  others,  extort  from 
my  pen,  make  still  further  and  very  large  inroads  upon 
the  claims  of  the  muses,  who  could  before  so  seldom  find 
my  writing-desk  unoccupied  by  preparations  for  the  post- 
office. 

'I  have  also  been  unable  to  decline  making  another 
addition  to  the  number  of  my  correspondents — a  Doctor 
of  Divinity  of  middle  age,  who  has  Learning,  Wit,  and  a 
very  glowing  Enthusiasm.  His  name  is  Warner.  He  is 
the  masterspring,  and  was  the  original  mover  of  the  scheme 
294 


MRS.  DELANY 

for  raising  a  statue  to  Howard.  About  a  month  since  he 
passed  four  days  in  Lichfield,  honouring  me  with  much  of 
his  time  and  attention,  and  offering  me  every  literary 
service  in  his  power,  with  the  most  affectionate  and 
engaging  frankness. 

'  Our  town  talks  loudly,  I  wish  it  may  be  falsely,  of 
Mr.  Broke  Boothby's l  ruin — affirms  that  continual  arrests 
are  driving  him  into  France,  in  probably  perpetual  exile 
from  his  country — an  exile  embittered,  O  how  dreadfully 
should  I  think  it  embittered !  by  the  consciousness  that  a 
number  of  people  in  my  native  land  were  execrating  an 
unprincipled  extravagance,  by  which  they  stood  deprived 
of  the  just  dues  of  their  labours.  A  young  gentleman  of 
Lichfield,  on  a  late  visit  to  this  infatuated  man,  saw  him 
receive  his  perfumery  account  for  the  year,  which  amounted 
to  two  hundred  pounds.1 

Another  immense  letter  to  Mr.  Dewes,  containing  three 
original  sonnets  and  an  essay  on  the  sonnet-form,  is  printed 
in  Miss  Seward's  Correspondence.  The  following  extract 
is  quaint  enough  in  its  Miltonic  criticism  to  be  repeated 
here : — '  It  does  not  appear  to  me  that  studied  exactness 
or  high  and  brilliant  polish  are  necessary  to  this  order  of 
composition  [i.e.  the  sonnet],  or  are  at  all  characteristic 
of  the  grave,  impressive,  energetic  sonnet  of  which,  in  our 
language,  Milton  is  the  Father.  To  those  last  refine- 
ments, or  indeed  to  anything  like  refinement,  not  one  of 
Milton's  lays  claim.  They  often  use  the  plainness  of 
conversational  phrase  with  very  fine  effect,  and  without 
pretension  to  neatness  and  high  polish,  they  give  us  better 
things.  Vigor,  compression,  and  dignity,  which  results 
from  the  power  of  the  thought  and  imagery,  rather 
than  from  the  exquisite  sweetness  of  the  number,  are 
1  A  writer  of  verses,  and  one  of  the  Lichfield  literary  set. 

295 


MRS.  DELANY 

their  characteristics ;  yet  where  the  subject  is  gay  or 
tender  a  sonnet  may  be  sometimes  improved  by  studious 
finish.1 

The  letters  of  Mrs.  Delany's  friend,  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Carter,  the  translator  of  Epictetus,  are  in  pleasant  contrast 
to  those  of  Miss  Seward's.  Two  or  three  of  these  are 
among  the  unpublished  Delany  MSS.,  though  they  are 
addressed  to  no  member  of  the  family,  but  possibly  to 
common  friends  or  acquaintances.  Mrs.  Carter  was  born 
in  1717  and  died  in  1806.  Besides  her  translations,  she 
published  a  volume  of  original  poems,  and  contributed  a 
couple  of  papers  to  the  Rambler.  She  seems  to  have  been 
one  of  the  most  worthy  and  dignified  members  of  the 
blue-stocking  set  that  was  presided  over  by  Mrs.  Montagu. 
A  specimen  or  two  of  her  style  will  suffice  to  prove  that 
even  the  most  learned  lady  of  the  eighteenth  century 
could  write  simply  and  naturally  when  she  chose.  In  a 
letter  dated  Deal  Lane,  June  4,  1750,  and  addressed  to 
Miss  Highmore,1  she  observes : — 

'  And  so  you  think  that  we  queer  uniform  people  who 
live  in  the  country  have  not  an  excuse  in  the  world  to 
help  ourselves  if  we  happen  to  follow  the  example  of  our 
correspondents  in  town,  and  not  answer  a  letter  as  soon 
as  might  be  expected.  But  however  strange  you  imagine 
it  to  be  that  folks  at  threescore  miles'  distance  from  London 
should  have  any  one  earthly  thing  to  interrupt  their 
leisure,  we  have  often  as  much  business  upon  our  hands 
as  ever  was  contained  upon  a  message  card.  For  my  own 
part  I  have  lately  so  racketed  up  and  down  the  face  of 
the  earth  that  I  have  as  good  a  title  to  the  epithet  of 
gossiping  as  you  can  boast  of,  and  therefore  claim  all  the 
privileges  to  excuse  my  not  thanking  you  sooner  for  your 
1  Samuel  Richardson's  friend  and  correspondent. 

296 


MRS.  DELANY 

very  obliging  letter.  I  congratulate  you  that  there  is  so 
soon  to  appear  another  volume  of  your  favourite  Mrs. 
Leapor's1  poetry.  It  is  with  much  concern  that  I  find 
myself  unable  to  comply  with  a  request  from  you  and 
Mr.  Browne,  but  indeed  you  pay  me  too  great  a  compli- 
ment in  supposing  me  capable  of  writing  upon  any  subject 
that  is  proposed  to  me.  Tho"1  I  highly  respect  Mrs. 
Leapor's  character  from  the  account  you  give  of  it,  yet 
as  she  was  absolutely  unknown  to  myself,  and  I  am  but 
little  acquainted  even  with  her  writings,  I  am  upon  this 
account  as  well  as  many  others,  entirely  unfit  for  such  an 
undertaking  as  you  propose. 

'  No  doubt  you  have  seen  the  Ramblers,  and  I  hope  you 
are  pleased  with  them.  Something  of  this  kind  seems 
greatly  wanted,  and  I  heartily  wish  these  papers  may 
meet  with  the  encouragement  they  deserve.  .  . 

*  I  have  begun  my  morning  rambles,  and  that  I  may 
not  oversleep  myself,  have  furnished  my  room  with  a 
Larum,  which  serves  besides  as  a  mighty  good  exercise  of 
Philosophy  for  cure  to  such  sleepy-headed  mortals  as  I 
am.  One  of  the  most  notable  trials  of  human  patience 
is  the  impertinence  of  a  Larum.  However,  its  trouble- 
some admonitions  are  well  compensated  when  one  is  revel- 
ling in  hedges,  woodbines,  and  honeysuckles,  and  all  that 
variety  of  delight  which  the  fair  creation  bestows  on  a 
morning  walk.' 

Mrs.  Carter,  as  has  been  seen,  outlived  Mrs.  Delany 
by  about  twenty  years,  and  the  other  letters  of  hers 
preserved  in  the  Llanover  collection  are  dated  1801, 
and  therefore  written  when  she  was  over  seventy 
years  of  age.  In  the  first  of  these,  addressed  to  Mrs. 

1  Mary  Leapor,  daughter  of  a  gardener.  She  published  a  couple  of 
volumes  of  poetry,  and  died  in  1744,  in  the  twenty-fourth  year  of  her  age. 

297 


MRS.  DELANY 

Duncombe,  Miss  Highmore's  married  name,  she  says : 
'  You  must  have  seen  in  the  papers  what  clouds  have 
involved  the  political  horizon.  The  illness  of  our  be- 
loved sovereign,  with  which  he  was  attacked  before  the 
new  arrangement  had  taken  effect,  threatened  sad  con- 
fusion. The  delirium  was  of  no  consequence,  as  it  was  a 
common  effect  of  the  Fevers  of  this  winter ;  but  this  Fever 
in  the  King  was  once  so  strong  as  to  give  apprehensions 
for  his  life.  That  Terror  is,  in  a  good  degree,  removed,  so 
that  there  is  reason  to  hope  he  may  soon  be  enabled  to 
resume  the  cares  of  Royalty,  and  settle  the  floating  state 
of  the  nation.  On  Wednesday  there  was  a  very  affecting 
scene  at  the  Ancient  Music  by  an  additional  stanza  being 
added  to  "  God  Save  the  King,"  containing  a  prayer  for 
his  health.  Mr.  Sheridan  has  done  himself  honour  by 
opposing  a  very  absurd  and  unfeeling  motion  for  bringing 
on  a  very  important  business  when  the  King  was  in  so  an 
alarming  a  situation.  Mr.  Pitt,  who  came  in  while  Mr. 
Sheridan  was  speaking,  was  more  affected  than  he  was 
ever  known  to  be.  .  .  .' 

'  May  24,  1801. — We  have  again  subject  for  great 
thankfulness  for  our  successes,  and  again  for  regret  in  the 
loss  of  so  many  of  our  gallant  countrymen,  and  their  brave 
commanders  at  their  head.  Victory  is  indeed  a  very  awful 
blessing,  and  I  heartily  join  in  your  supplication  for  peace. 
...  I  have  not  seen  many  new  publications,  and  some  that 
I  have  seen  I  have  forgot.  I  remember  in  general  that  I 
liked  Percwal.  The  newest  that  I  have  heard  of  or 
seen  are  Tableaux  de  Famille.  This  is  a  translation  from 
German  by  the  translator  of  Caroline  de  Lkhtfield.  It  is 
a  work  of  genius.  The  characters  are  well  drawn,  and 
with  great  humour.  The  moral  and  religious  principles 
are  often  very  good,  but  like  other  German  productions, 
298 


MRS.  DELANY 

some  parts  I  think  exceptionable.  The  Father  and 
Daughter,  by  Mrs.  Opie,  is,  I  think,  original  in  the  story, 
and  the  principles  unexceptionable.  A  little  volume  of 
Poems  by  Mr.  William  Boscawen,  the  translator  of  Horace, 
I  have  not  yet  read.  I  beg  your  acceptance  of  the  last 
two  volumes,  and  will  bring  them  with  me.1 

It  does  not  appear  from  the  letters  that  Mrs.  Delany 
was  brought  much  into  contact  with  Lady  Mary  Wortley 
Montagu,  but  it  is  evident  that  there  were  few  of  her 
feminine  contemporaries  whom  she  regarded  with  a  more 
genuine  respect  and  affection  than  Lady  Mary's  daughter, 
Lady  Bute.  This  friendship  was  continued,  as  Mrs. 
Delany's  friendships  were  so  apt  to  be,  by  the  succeeding 
generation  on  each  side.  Lady  Bute's  brilliantly  clever 
daughter,  Lady  Louisa  Stuart,  who  was  born  in  1757, 
and  died  in  1851,  kept  up  the  family  friendship  with  Miss 
Port,  after  the  latter  became  Mrs.  Waddington.  Among 
the  papers  at  Llanover  are  two  interesting  letters  from 
Lady  Louisa,  who,  as  her  recently  published  recollec- 
tions prove,  had  inherited  much  of  the  wit  and  vivacity 
of  her  celebrated  grandmother.  The  first  of  these  letters, 
which  is  undated,  was  evidently  written  in  answer  to  one 
from  Mrs.  Waddington,  inquiring  into  some  point  of 
precedence,  and  runs  as  follows  : — 

'  Although  the  grandsons  of  peers  have  no  legal  rank, 
I  believe  it  is  now  very  commonly  given  them  in  society, 
and  therefore  according  to  its  present  customs  you  were 
right  in  putting  Lord  Rupert  above  Lord  Hood.  It  is 
odd  enough  that  the  present  Duke  of  Bedford  and  his 
brothers,  sons  of  Lord  Tavistock,  were  Master  Russells 
as  long  as  their  old  grandfather  lived :  he  would  not  let 
them  be  called  Lords ;  but  it  was  held  one  of  his  whims. 
However,  the  late  Duke  of  Rutland's  brother  (in  the 

299 


MRS.  DELANY 

same  predicament)  was  called  Mr.  Manners  till  presented 
at  Court,  when  the  king  [George  in.]  corrected  the  Lord 
of  the  Bed-chamber  with  "  No,  no,  Lord  Robert  Manners." 
The  Duke  of  Buccleugh  of  my  time,  whose  father  also 
died  before  his  grandfather,  had  a  brother,  Mr.  Scott. 
If  I  durst  say  so,  the  love  of  mere  title  has  most  marvel- 
lously increased  in  these  last  twenty  or  thirty  years,  and, 
I  own,  appears  to  me  a  great  increase  of  vulgarity.  Be- 
tween ourselves,  my  father's  blood  would  have  boiled  at 
the  thoughts  of  one  of  his  descendants  suing  to  be  made 
a  paper  Lord — paper  Ladies  there  were,  and  that  was 
thought  belonging  to  female  weakness  and  vanity.  The 
late  Lord  Derby's  sisters  remained  Miss  Stanleys;  Lord 
Mansfield  refused  titles  for  his  nieces  as  below  Lord 
Stonnont's  daughters  to  accept  —  tho'  afterwards  they 
became  Ladies  at  their  own  request.  As  for  men,  the 
thing  never  was  heard  of  till  within  these  twenty-five 
years,  and  the  first  instance  of  it  happened  in  the  case  of 
no  very  creditable  person.  Certainly  our  old-fashioned 
pride  was  in  birth  and  name,  and  we  were  too  proud  to 
think  that  heightened  by  title.  However,  all  pride  is 
perhaps  equally  foolish.' 

Another  letter  of  Lady  Louisa's,  whose  date  can  be  ap- 
proximately guessed,  is  headed  '  Article  Seven  of  No.  136, 
page  450,'  and  is  evidently  intended  to  draw  Mrs. 
Waddington's  attention  to  an  article  in  the  Edinburgh 
Review  for  July  1838,  on  '  The  Character  of  Chatham.' 
In  order  to  make  the  letter  clear,  we  must  first  refer  to  a 
passage  in  the  article  in  which  the  reviewer  states  that 
in  1777  Pitt  made  a  brilliant  speech  on  the  American 
War,  and  replying  to  Lord  Suffolk,  who  had  said,  in 
reference  to  employing  the  Indians  against  our  enemies, 
that  'we  were  justified  in  using  all  the  means  that  God 
300 


MRS.  DELANY 

and  nature  had  put  into  our  hands,"1  exclaimed  indignantly, 
'  I  am  astonished — shocked — to  hear  such  principles  con- 
fessed, to  hear  them  avowed  in  this  House  or  in  this 
country — principles  equally  unconstitutional,  unhuman, 
and  unchristian.  My  Lords,  I  did  not  intend  to  have 
trespassed  again  on  your  attention,  but  I  cannot  repress 
my  indignation.  I  feel  myself  impelled  by  every  duty. 
We  are  called  upon  by  members  of  this  House,  as  men, 
as  Christian  men,  to  protest  against  such  notions,  stand- 
ing near  the  throne,  polluting  the  ear  of  Majesty.  That 
God  and  nature  put  into  our  hands!  I  know  not  what 
idea  that  Lord  may  entertain  of  God  and  nature,  but 
I  know  that  such  abominable  principles  are  equally 
abhorrent  to  religion  and  humanity.  What !  Attribute 
the  sacred  sanction  of  God  and  nature  to  the  massacres  of 
the  Indian  scalping-knife,  to  the  cannibal  savage,  tortur- 
ing, murdering,  roasting,  eating  the  mangled  victims  of 
his  barbarous  battles.  Such  horrible  notions  shock  every 
sentiment  of  honour ;  they  shock  me  as  a  lover  of  honour- 
able war,  and  a  detester  of  murderous  barbarity.1  Pitt 
further  went  on  to  protest  that  *  From  the  tapestry  that 
adorns  these  walls,  the  ancestor  of  this  noble  Lord  frowns 
with  indignation  at  the  disgrace  of  his  country"1;  and 
concluded,  '  I  could  not  have  slept  this  night  in  my  bed, 
or  have  reposed  my  head  on  my  pillow,  without  giving 
thus  vent  to  my  eternal  abhorrence  of  such  preposterous 
and  enormous  principles.1 

Lady  Louisa,  referring  to  the  reviewer's  admiration  for 
the  passage  quoted,  observes,  'This  is  undoubtedly  the 
highest  strain  of  eloquence,  a  speech  that  must  have 
convulsed  every  hearer ;  but  there  was  a  circumstance  in 
the  debate  that  produced  it  that  the  reviewer  probably 
does  not  know,  nor  the  editor  either.  Some  of  those  who 

301 


MRS.  DELANY 

opposed  Lord  Chatham  hinted  that  the  practice  he  so 
forcibly  condemned  had  a  precedent,  and  had  begun 
under  his  own  administration,  the  Indians  having  been 
employed  by  us  in  that  very  war,  his  pride  and  boast, 
that  terminated  in  the  conquest  of  Canada.  The  French, 
indeed,  were  not  like  the  Americans,  in  some  sort  our 
countrymen,  and  they  perhaps  commenced  this  savage 
warfare,  making  it  on  our  side  only  retaliation.  Still, 
the  cruelty  of  it  was  the  same.  Lord  Chatham  gave  the 
charge  a  flat  denial,  but  in  the  House  of  Lords  he  did 
not  exercise  the  despotic  empire  he  had  once  professed 
over  the  House  of  Commons.  Some  ventured  to  main- 
tain their  assertion,  and  appealed  for  proof  to  that 
person  who  must  know  most  of  the  matter.  This  was 
Sir  Jeffrey — lately  created  Lord  Amherst — the  general 
who  commanded  our  troops  during  the  Canadian  war. 
He  remained  silent  till  an  almost  general  cry  forced  him 
to  rise ;  then  unused  to  speaking,  and  much  attached  to 
Lord  Chatham,  he  said  reluctantly  as  little  on  the  subject 
as  he  could.  But  that  little  sufficed  to  show  that  our 
Indian  allies  were  employed,  and  that  no  reprehension 
from  home  had  followed. 

'  Of  course  I  can  only  speak  from  hearsay  and  recollec- 
tion of  the  newspapers  of  what  passed  in  the  House  of 
Lords  sixty-one  years  ago.  It  made  much  noise,  however, 
and  was  next  day  the  whole  subject  of  discussion  every- 
where. "  And  did  Pitt  really  deny  it  ?  "  said  my  father, 
lifting  his  hands  and  eyes.  "  Is  it  possible  ?  Why,  I 
have  by  me  at  this  hour  letters  of  his  singing  lo  Pceans 
upon  the  successful  employment  of  the  Indians  in  that 
war."  The  remarkable  expression  fixed  itself  in  my 
memory.  I  would  not  quote  any  opinion  of  my  father's 
about  Lord  Chatham,  no  more  than  I  would  trust  Lord 
302 


MRS.  DELANY 

Chatham's  about  him.  They  had  been  friends,  and 
became  enemies.  Which  was  in  the  wrong  I  cannot 
judge,  but  reason  tells  me  that  they  could  scarcely 
estimate  each  other  candidly.  Here,  however,  was  no 
opinion  given.  My  father  stated  a  fact,  thinking  as  it 
were  aloud,  and  addressing  it  solely  to  my  mother,  who 
joined  him  in  wondering  at  Lord  Chatham,  but  seemed 
not  at  all  surprised  at  the  point  itself,  which,  I  presume, 
was  notorious ;  since  fewer  years  had  elapsed  than  may 
now  have  blotted  out  the  Peninsular  contest  from  people's 
remembrance.  I  will  add  one  trifling  anecdote.  We 
went  that  night  to  a  party,  where  we  chanced  to  meet 
the  late  Lord  Edgecombe,  an  habitual  joker,  and  rather  a 
coarse  one.  "  Well,"  cried  he, "  had  not  we  a  pretty  scene 
in  the  House  yesterday,  and  a  fine  opportunity  of  seeing 
how  a  great  man  looks  when  he  is  fairly  caught  in  a 
lie  ?  I  assure  you,  he  stood  it  with  most  magnanimous 
indifference,  not  the  least  discomposed.''1 1 1 

It  was  the  custom  with  Mary  Granville  and  her  con- 
temporaries to  write  down  curious  stories  of  real  life,  or 
accounts  of  remarkable  people  which  they  might  happen 
to  hear.  Some  of  those  are  printed  in  the  Autobiography 
and  Correspondence,  but  among  Mrs.  Delany's  papers  are 
two,  which,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  have  never  been 
published.  Both  deal  with  marriage  arrangements  of  an 
unusual  kind,  the  one  in  high  life,  the  other  in  low  life. 
The  first  is  entitled  '  Account  of  Phipps1  Marriage,1  and 
relates  the  circumstances  that  led  to  the  marriage  of 
Mr.  Phipps,  afterwards  Lord  Mulgrave,  the  grandson  of 

1  This  letter  is  particularly  interesting  at  the  present  time  (January,  1900) 
when  scarcely  a  day  passes  without  our  hearing  that  the  natives  are  with 
difficulty  prevented  from  throwing  themselves  into  the  struggle  now  raging 
in  South  Africa. 


MRS.  DELANY 

the  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  with  a  daughter  of  Lord 
Hervey. 

'The  Duchess  of  Buckingham  \_nte  Darnley,  the 
illegitimate  daughter  of  James  n.  by  Catherine  Sedley], 
by  the  premature  death  of  her  son,  the  young  duke, 
became  possessed  of  all  his  fortune.  Her  daughter  by 
the  Earl  of  Anglesea  (her  first  husband)  married  Sir 
Constantine  Phipps,  a  lawyer,  and  Chancellor  of  Ireland. 
The  son  of  this  marriage  the  Duchess  resolved  to  make 
her  heir,  and  being  aware  that  he  was  not  likely  to  have 
had  very  polished  training,  consulted  Lord  Hervey  how 
he  might  be  brought  forward  in  the  world  with  advantage. 
Lord  Hervey  said,  "  Marry  him  into  some  well-established 
family."  "  Well,"  said  the  Duchess,  "  but  to  whom  or 
how  ?  "  "  Why,  you  shall  have  my  daughter."  Agreed. 
Lord  Hervey  then  told  the  young  lady  he  could  give  her 
very  little  fortune,  and  she  must  consider  whether  she  would 
take  this  probably  unlicked  Irish  cub  or  stand  the  chances 
of  a  worse  match  or  none.  She  assented,  and  Mr.  Phipps 
was  sent  for  to  town.  He  came  on  Thursday  night  to 
Buckingham  House,  was  carried  into  the  apartment  ap- 
propriated for  him,  where  supper  was  served  with  great 
magnificence.  The  next  morning  they  told  him  the  mercer, 
tailor,  etc.,  waited  for  his  commands,  and  soon  after  came 
my  Lord  Hervey  to  wait  on  him,  who  told  him  that  he 
came  to  make  him  an  offer  of  his  daughter,  that  the  Duchess 
of  Buckingham  had  chosen  to  be  his  wife.  His  answer  was 
he  really  had  no  acquaintance  with  the  young  lady,  and 
could  not  tell  what  to  say  to  it.  But  that  was  nothing 
— married  he  was  to  be,  and  the  young  lady  was  brought 
in  the  evening.  She  is  very  handsome,  and  a  fine  figure. 
Mr.  Phipps,  they  say,  was  struck  with  astonishment  at 
her  beauty.  The  Duchess  of  Buckingham  received  her 
304 


MRS.  DELANY 

lying  on  a  white  satin  couch,  under  a  white  satin  canopy. 
This  was  on  Friday;  on  Saturday  they  were  married. 
The  Duchess  is  dying,  if  not  dead.  She  sent  for  the 
Herald  at  Arms,  and  desired  she  might  be  buried  like 
King  James's  daughter,  and  laid  near  the  Queen.  There 
is  no  repeating  the  extravagance  of  her  pride.  I  wish  the 
young  people  may  be  happy,  but  never  was  made  so 
strange  a  match  in  so  strange  a  fashion,  and  I  fear  their 
circumstances  will  be  nothing  extraordinary.  She  says 
she  has  settled  four  thousand  a  year  on  them,  but  I 
doubt  it  will  prove  like  Don  Diego's  will  in  the  Spanish 
Curate.'1 

In  Burke  we  merely  read  the  prosaic  announcement 
that  Constantine  Phipps  married  Lepell,  eldest  (laughter 
of  Lord  Hervey  of  Ickworth,  in  1743.  His  father,  by  the 
way,  was  not  Sir  Constantine  Phipps,  but  William  Phipps, 
the  Chancellor's  son. 

The  account  is  continued  in  another  hand,  and  ob- 
viously at  a  much  later  date.  '  The  lady  always  treated 
her  husband  with  extreme  disdain.  He  was  made  an 
Irish  peer,  Lord  Mulgrave.  The  English  peerage  and 
earldom  were  all  bestowed  by  Mr.  Pitt  on  his  second  son, 
Lord  Normanby's  father.  They  have  taken  all  the  titles, 
and  put  themselves  in  the  place  of  the  Sheffields,  Earls  of 
Mulgrave  and  Dukes  of  Buckingham,  with  whose  family 
they  have  no  more  connection  than  Lord  Rokeby  with  the 
real  Montagus.  The  mode  of  marriage  was  strange,  but 
not  unusual  in  those  days.  The  Duke  of  Kent,  when 
dying  in  1740,  sent  for  Lord  Hardwicke  (the  Chancellor) 
and  told  him  that  he  had  made  his  grand-daughter,  Lady 
Jemima  Campbell,  his  heiress,  an  only  daughter  of  the 
third  Earl  Breadalbane.  If  by  his  interest  with  the 
Crown  he  could  obtain  for  her  some,  of  the  honours  o£ 
u  305 


MRS.  DELANY 

the  family,  he  would  give  her  for  a  wife  to  his  (Lord 
Hardwicke's)  son,  born  in  1720.  The  Chancellor  laid 
the  matter  before  the  king,  who  readily  agreed  to  create 
her  Marchioness  Grey  and  Baroness  Lucas  of  Cradwell. 
Lord  Hardwicke  then  sent  for  his  son  from  Cambridge, 
and  the  couple  were  married  at  the  Duke  of  Kenfs  bed- 
side. He  was  a  well-disposed  youth,  wholly  devoted  to 
classical  studies ;  she  was  a  quiet,  orderly  girl,  and  both 
were  good-tempered.  They  lived  together  to  old  age  in 
perfect  harmony  and  union,  and  were  thought  a  pattern 
couple.  He  drew  a  very  lover-like  picture  of  her  in  the 
Athenian  Letters,  written  by  him  and  his  brother,  Charles 
Yorke.' 

A  quaint  contrast  to  the  foregoing  account  of  alliances 
in  high  life  is  a  letter  from  one  Rachel  Crafton,  a  widow, 
to  her  guardian,  a  copy  of  which  was  probably  procured 
by  Mrs.  Delany  in  her  Irish  days,  and  kept  because  it 
gave  so  remarkable  a  glimpse  into  the  bourgeois  manners 
of  the  times.  The  letter,  which  is  marked  'very  curious,' 
is  undated,  and  there  is  nothing  to  explain  who  Rachel 
Crafton  was. 

'  Before  I  proceed  further1  (it  begins),  '  I  must  humbly 
beg  this  the  favour  of  you  not  to  put  any  false  construc- 
tion upon  these  lines,  that  it  is  out  of  wantonness  or 
folly  that  I  presume  to  give  you  this  trouble,  for  it  is 
only  to  let  you  see  that  I  do  not  designe  to  dispose  of 
myself,  or  anything  of  value  belonging  to  me,  without 
your  consent  or  approbation  ;  for  I  know  you  were 
placed  in  my  unkle's  stead,  which  makes  me  appeal  to 
you,  for  you  are  all  one  as  a  Father  to  me,  in  not  letting 
me  be  cast  away,  nor  yet  to  Tye  me  up  so  sore  against 
my  will,  which  makes  me  bold  to  acquaint  you  with 
what  I  am  informed,  and  what  I  am  inclined  unto, 
306 


MRS.  DELANY 

provided  you  are  content.  But  if  soe  be  that  my 
judgment  may  fail,  I  will  be  willing  to  submit  to  you 
In  hopes  you  may  propose  perhaps  better  for  me  than  I 
can  for  myself.  And  now  I  propose  to  begin  as  followeth, 
which  is  that  I  have  been  told  that  you  was  pleased  several 
times  to  encourage  Mr.  Tracey  to  court  me  for  his  wife, 
and  that  you  preferred  to  give  an  hundred  pounds  with 
me,  on  my  unkle's  account,  which  is  as  I  understand 
allowed  you  by  my  unkle's  orders  in  case  I  marry,  which 
I  presume  I  will  be  driven  to  at  last,  for  I  am  very 
desolate,  having  no  near  friend  to  take  care  of  me,  as 
a  loving  Husband  would  doe,  especially  when  I  am  sick ; 
nor  am  I  able  to  keep  a  servant  as  I  am,  but  if  I  was  a 
helpmeet  perhaps  between  us  we  might  be  able  to  live  in 
a  house  of  our  own,  and  not  be  tost  from  one  place  to 
another  as  I  have  been,  like  a  tennis-ball ;  nor  can  I 
promise  to  myselfe  to  be  kept  out  of  the  lash  of  Tongues, 
let  me  carry  as  I  can,  nor  does  any  regard  a  lonesome 
woman,  but  strives  to  put  their  foot  on  their  necks,  as 
I  too  well  have  found  this  many  a  day,  which  makes  me 
Court  a  married  Life  once  more.  But  as  for  Mr.  Tracey, 
I  hope,  dear  Sir,  you  will  not  impose  on  me  to  marry 
him,  not  that  I  find  any  fault  with  the  man's  person  or 
his  age,  but  I  am  informed  if  I  marry  him  I  shall  live  but 
a  slaverish  life,  for  he  lives  much  after  the  Irish  way,  and 
has  a  great  house  of  Irishes  about  him,  and  I  doe  not 
covet  being  a  step-mother.  Besides,  the  man  is,  as  I  am 
informed  by  my  friend  Mr.  Lawson,  full  of  infirmities, 
and  he  says  he  would  not  have  me  concern  myself  with 
him.  And  besides,  I  have  a  reason  best  known  to  God 
and  myself,  that  I  am  sure  if  my  unkle  knew  of  it,  he 
would  not  let  me  have  him,  as  I  hope  you  will  not,  having 
been  the  cause  of  his  pretending  to  me,  for  I  am  sure  he 

307 


MRS.  DELANY 

intends  to  come  if  he  be  not  stoped,  and  to  marry  me, 
and  take  me  away  before  May,  for  he  and  all  his  friends 
sayd  as  much  before  my  face  on  the  day  graney  Dalmar 
was  buryed,  but  I  held  my  tongue,  and  neither  sayd  for 
it  or  against  it. 

*  And  now  I  have  done,  and  I  hope  you  will  put  him  off 
his  designe  by  sending  him  word  not  to  Trouble  himselfe 
to  come  on  any  such  account.  For  you  cannot  persuade 
me  to  like  him,  nor  can  you  force  me,  nor  can  you  tell 
what  is  the  reason  you  may,  for  I  never  will  be  his  wife 
unless  you  compel  me  to  it,  which  I  hope  you  never  will, 
for  fear  it  should  prove  a  cross  to  me  as  my  first  marriage 
did.  But  if  you  would  be  pleased  to  make  the  like  pro- 
posal to  Dr.  Fairservice  or  Mr.  Wheelwright  as  you  did 
to  Samson  Tracey,  which  you  think  would  prove  the  best 
husband,  I  could  be  content  (I  will  not  lye)  to  lead  my 
life  with  either  of  them  which  is  my  lot,  for  I  presume  to 
think  one  of  them  will  fall  to  my  lot.  As  for  the  Doctor, 
if  he  be  not  too  young,  and  if  you  and  he  could  agree 
upon  the  matter,  I  presume  we  might  do  well  enough, 
for  I  would,  I  think,  be  a  means  to  bring  him  out  of  the 
idle  way  of  spending  and  drinking,  as  he  does  for  want  of 
one  to  take  motherly  care  of  him,  and  he  might  follow 
his  calling,  and  settle  in  the  place,  and  keep  an  apothe- 
cary's shop.  But  I  would  have  you  make  the  bargain  so 
that  I  might  have  liberty  to  have  about  forty  pounds  of 
my  portion  at  my  own  disposal,  and  he  the  other  sixty  to 
manage  as  he  sees  h'tt.  And  I  with  my  share  would  buy 
some  grocery  goods  and  put  them  in  a  shop,  and  turn  my 
hand  and  bring  in  some  gain  to  us  both ;  and  I  would 
buy  two  or  three  milch  cows,  and  keep  a  good  servant, 
and  follow  some  housewifery ;  and  so  I  propose,  with  his 
practice,  we  might  live  comfortably  enough  together. 
308 


MRS.  DELANY 

I  do  not  know  but  if  you  please  to  give  him  encourage- 
ment but  it  may  do ;  but  if  this  do  not  please  you,  I 
hope  Mr.  Wheelwright  may,  and  he  may  follow  his  trade, 
and  you  may  divide  my  portion  the  same  way  with  him, 
and  I  follow  the  same  course  as  with  the  other.  But  if 
you  know  of  a  better  match  than  one  of  them  two,  I  hope 
you  will  help  me  to  it.  I  hope  you  will  consider  of  what 
I  have  said  before  the  month  of  May  be  out,  for  I  pre- 
sume it  will  be  a  fitt  time  for  us  to  go  together,  for  then 
is  the  time  to  take  servants  and  buy  milch  cows ;  and  if 
you  please  in  the  meantime  to  speak  to  either  of  them  I 
have  named,  what  bargain  you  make  I  will  stand  to  with 
any  but  Tracey ;  I  cannot  here  of  that  with  satisfaction. 
I  pray  goodness  you  may  not  expose  my  designe  to  any 
but  yourselfe ;  and  the  Lord  put  it  into  your  mind  to 
doe  for  me  as  if  I  was  your  own  child.  So  hoping  you 
will  not  be  offended,  but  when  you  see  your  own  time 
will  wright  to  me  two  or  three  times  to  let  me  know  your 
pleasure,  and  how  you  like  my  proposall,  for  I  would  not 
have  you  speake  to  me  before  any  one,  is  the  humble 
request  of,  Sir,  your  most  obedient  servant  at  your  com- 
mand. Pray  pardon  my  boldness,  and  do  not  be  offended 
at  me  for  what  I  have  written. 

*  Dear  Sir,  I  will  never  hide  the  truth  from  you,  if  it 
were  God^s  will,  as  perhaps  it  may,  and  your  pleasure,  I 
would  rather  lead  my  life  with  the  Doctor  than  with  any 
man  liveing,  and  have  been  of  that  mind  ever  since  Mr. 
K.  when  alive  made  a  proposall  with  him,  because  he  has 
a  genteel  calling,  and  may  be  useful  to  the  town  and 
county,  and  I  am  sure  carefull  of  me  in  time  of  sickness, 
and  he  may  become  a  good  man  and  a  credit  to  my 
Family ;  and  I  hope  you  will  be  the  same  to  him  as  your 
Father-in-law  promised  to  be,  if  it  be  our  luck  to  goe 

309 


MRS.  DELANY 

together.  And  Mr.  Lawson  and  Mr.  Aston  has  good 
hopes  of  him,  and  I  hope  you  will  have  the  same ;  in  all 
from  R.  C. 

'  Dear  Sir,  if  it  should  be  your  pleasure  to  speak  to  the 
Doctor  about  me,  pray  do  not  let  him  know  that  I  spoke 
to  you,  but  that  you  spoke  of  your  own  accord,  and  that 
you  believe  it  may  do  well,  and  that  you  will  persuade 
me  to  it,  for  you  may  say  that  you  are  sure  I  will  be 
directed  by  you  sooner  to  take  him  than  Tracey,  is  the 
desire  of  your  once  more  humble  servant, 

'RACHEL  CRAFTON." 


THE   END 


Printed  by  T.  and  A.  CONSTABLE,  Printers  to  Her  Majesty 
at  the  Edinburgh  University  Press 


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